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Gary Fulk
1955 - 2007




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Gary, yes everyone has written those kind words about him and as I remember him all those memories are true. Another alumni gone too soon.

Added: October 3, 2010
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Sunday morning, coffee on the patio and thinking of Browning, "all's right with the world," then the sudden sinking sensation that the natural order has been disrupted. Like a magnificent redwood chopped down in its time of glory, you leave and I remain and can only wonder. Yet, you leave a gift behind, one which is unexpected, perhaps undeserved: an old mutual friend reappears in my life and brings great pleasure. Because of you, gentle giant, the one with the magic pen once again amuses, delights and informs. Listening to DK as I write and think of you and thank you for being, then and for all time. O' Great Spirit, when life fades, as the fading sunset, my spirit may come to you without shame. From and Indian prayer

Added: July 29, 2007
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I did not know Gary well, but I do know he had love of nature and the outdoors; of music and movies. He had an inquisitive mind, a generous spirit and lifelong friends. Emerson once said: "To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people . . . to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to leave the world a bit better whether by a healthy child, a garden path, or a redeemed social condition; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded. It would seem Gary accomplished all of these in his too-short life. My deepest condolences to his family and friends-- Toni Fleming

Added: February 18, 2007
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Awright, my friend, now we're all rambling wrecks in a Fulk-sized funk... a tree your size doesn't fall in the forest without making a hell of a lot of noise... a joyful noise, I begin to believe... the Man Mountain doesn't collapse without major ripples, (the word tsunami comes to mind), the ripples and wreckage touching, wrecking, recreating us all... As you were so fond of reminding me, When the Going Gets Weird, the Weird Turn Pro... indeed... You were larger than life in the minds of many... "By God, You're Big!" they'd say, astonished... your very presence here to tell us that size mattered... Go Big or Go Home...No Gentle Giant, you... Women loved you, men feared you... Immovable object that you were, your stubbornness, your inescapable inertia... if the mountain won't come to Mohammed... Yet like some cheesy Big and Tall men's shop, and not unlike that tan Volkswagen beetle, the world never fit you all that well, did it? Your love of the aesthetic and the life of the mind... your bari sax, all those films, hundreds, no, thousands of them... and Bird, Coltrane, Miles, Turrentine, Gato, Eddie Harris... Kerouac, Edward Abbey, HST, Persig, McGuane, Harrison, Crews... and the price of taking it all too seriously, though no life ruined by sport, yours... perhaps misunderstood, yet with no desire to be understood... your visionary and supremely generous spirit... slack on... the desert, you loved it, yes, but to whom does it fall to be the keeper of the Yellowstone Fulk, the fisherman, the King of the Road, the Oso Mayor, G. Ramblin in that paradise where you could drive a hundred miles to get a beer... that epic road trip from San Francisco to Yellowstone, you in the Impala, me on two wheels on that Yamaha prototype shaft-drive, in a freezing, driving rain from Sacramento to Jackpot, a blizzard crossing Donner Summit and the sliding descent in a herd of semis... flyfishing for unimaginably abundant cutthroat trout on Thumb Creek... you with a snootful of Old Yellowstone, pushing over lodgepole pines and striking fear into the hearts of your co-workers... the times you spent on Ketchum time, and the trip up for my wedding (not everyone has an Irish wife, hm?), my de facto best man (you worked like a dog, as you so enjoyed reminding me) and our last road trip to Twin Falls, shopping for wedding present earrings for Sab the day before our wedding... my most recent Fulk sighting and your indignation that I could imagine you'd be kicked back and cruising ten mph under the speed limit on the wide-open interstate... and yes, your timing left something to be desired... that final roadtrip through the shimmering impossibly brilliant blue and white basin and range topography you loved so well... and then the snow in Scottsdale, the most in thirty years, a bit of the Northern Rockies swept down into the desert... and Barry Manilow?!... That photo of you in a kamikaze headband, chomping what could've been a Cuban, flipping off the impudent photographer, said it all... I'd guess you might've chosen Don't Get Around Much Anymore... not that anyone could make you choose... no matter where you go, there you are... 186,000 miles per second-it's not just a good idea, it's the law... What to do? Plant a tree? You'd probably scoff... It'd have to be something that would grow awfully damned big... I'd thought perhaps a spruce, but a lodgepole, I suppose... a tree to wait for something as strong as a Chinook wind to push it over... the sacred and the profane... I'm still thinking, shot out of a cannon, ablaze... and I'm still expecting the 7-11 sightings, expecting to see the grin, hear the chuckle, feel the rumble of your bellowing laugh... esoteric? of course, and thanks, Ralph, for that... not so much elegaic as elliptical... You're right, of course, you probably wouldn't have liked it, anyway... but Oso Mayor, how do we not remember you yet again when we turn our eyes northward in the night sky, the wave of your falling washing across the stars and rippling over the lives you've left to live in a world much diminished by your passing.... Ramble on, my friend...

Added: February 8, 2007
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The high school in Cottonwood has a marching band of about 20 students and only half of them are musicians. I think I must be getting old because I always say--WHEN I WAS HIGH SCHOOL--my high school band was incredible! And of course when I say that--I think of Gary. It has been way too many years since I've seen Gary--but as soon as I heard the news--I remembered the sweet giant who could always make me laugh. And I remembered the music.

Added: February 6, 2007
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The one thing that I remember about Gary, was that he was big. And you would always have the first impression that he played football, rather than the tenor sax. If you were to ask me who I would compare him to it would be Hoss Cartwright from Bonanza, and Merlin Olsen of the "Fearsome Foursome" of the Los Angeles Rams. Both men were the big strong gentle giants, just like Gary. Always a smile and a kind word to say, along with great intellegence. I first met him at Loloma Elementary School, and he lived over on the next street from me. And I was always envious of his perfect sideburns, something that I could never grow. Rest in Peace Gary, it's true that the good die young.

Added: February 1, 2007
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My mom called this past weekend to tell me that Gary had died. She frequently calls and tells me of someone's passing, but it is from her generation, not ours. Needless to say I feel a great loss. I will always remember Gary's size and his smile. Both could crtainly fill a room. In retrospect I now recognize what a kind and generous man he was - I hope his life, albeit too short, was filled with love, peace and humor.

Added: January 31, 2007
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I saw Gary's obituary in the AZ Republic and felt so bad when I realized that it was the same Gary Fulk from CHS Class of '73. Even though I did not know him well, I do remember that he was very talented, extremely bright, and always smiling. He and his buddies always seemed to have some kind of "inside joke" going on that I was not privy to. However, I never felt excluded because he was so nice to me. He was a true gentleman! My condolences go out to his family and friends.

Added: January 30, 2007
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