Edgar Allen Eaves, Jr. passed away Sunday, January 29, 2017 due to complications from a radioactive spider bite.
He was born to Edgar Allen Eaves, Sr. and Bertha Eaves nee Nealy, in the spring of 1955. Preceded in death by his brothers Clark, Elton of Arlington, TX and Ronald Eaves of Freeport, TX; he is survived by his sister, Shirley Harriman of Crossett, AR; wife Brenda Eaves nee Smith of Silsbee, TX; his step-son, Kenneth Gallagher of Silsbee, TX; his beautiful daughters Celia Eaves-Cobb of Biloxi, MS; and Debbie Eaves-Thamm of Lumberton, TX; grandchildren: Logan Herring, Katherine Gallagher, Annabel Cobb, and Toby Thamm.
Full of life, Edgar was a dedicated and loyal friend, father (although somewhat terrifying to suitors of his daughters), and loving husband.
Edgar met the love of his life, Brenda, while they were working in a hardware store by attempting to dazzle her with his knowledge of the planets and the stars while unaware of her previous scientific background. She fell for his accidental charm and beautiful hair; they married in 1981 and were blessed by the birth of their eldest daughter, Celia in 1982, followed by an encore sibling, Debbie in 1984 (whom her mother was convinced: “It’s just a stomach virus”). Edgar loved his “little Indian girls” and, as expected, they loved their grandmother, Bertha. Ha! Edgar also took an active part in the life of his step-son, Kenneth Gallagher from the early age of four, helping to raise him into the kind and generous man Kenneth is today.
The youngest of five children, Edgar set himself apart with his unique approach to life and his sometimes morbid sense of humor.
What is most memorable about Edgar was his ability to connect with a variety of people through cleverly placed self-deprecating jokes. He had a number of taglines, with his old standbys that included such gems as: (as he is leaving a social gathering) “I am so glad you got see me!” or (avoiding a social gathering) “Oh, I’m so sorry. I can’t. I have a bone in my leg.” But, his signature line was, “You’ll have to do like they do in Port Arthur: without!”
He worked in a myriad of industries from the historic ice house in Silsbee (where he unwittingly worked in succession to his father-in-law and grandfather-in-law) oil fields (where he invented the phrase “rough neck”) to the criminal justice system as a corrections officer (which is surprising because of his affinity for bending the rules as he saw fit).
He is known for his courageous and valiant rescue of animals – great or small – across the world. Legends tell of Edgar rescuing a drowning bunny from an untimely demise at the Houston Zoo and allowing a massive bee hive to grow between the walls of his house without even collecting the honey for rent!
Like any native Texan, he enjoyed a good, old fashioned BBQ. He also had a flair for the arts – as long as they included woodworking – and loved to travel. Big Bend National Park was his second home. He could sing faux opera, and he was an excellent mimic of accents (leading him to understand and “speak” pseudo-Gaelic with a fine Scottish brogue as well as the mysterious language of pirates.) While he was an aficionado of the arts, he was a man of simple tastes. He enjoyed the freshest of Krispy Kreme donuts as well as “Pirates of the Caribbean” a la Captain Jack Sparrow.
Known to some as ‘Viking Warrior’ or ‘Dave’ or ‘Harry E. Gore’ (of Facebook fame), Edgar was consistently known as a caring, thoughtful, kind-hearted and amusing guy. Loved by all, feared by some, he will be forgotten by none.
Edgar will be cremated with plans to return to the earth in Big Bend National Park, Texas this spring.
