Benjamin "Ben" Wesley Potter

He was born on October 2nd, 1927 in Lumberton, Mississippi to Fred Wesley and Frances

Katherine Potter. He was the oldest of 5 children. In 1930 his family would move to Oregon.

Over the years they would live in Hines, Hood River, Portland, Idaho, Alabama and probably a

few places we’ve forgotten. They never stayed anywhere for long, “nomads” he called his

family. “We would usually start school in one state and finish the year in another. We made a

lot of friends that way. By the same token, we lost a lot of friends that way”. One of the homes

he and his mother and siblings had was a tent on the Deschutes River, one of the highlights of

his childhood. To help his family, Ben left school in the 8th grade. He worked different jobs,

such as Ice Delivery, for which he was paid $10 a week to carry 70 pound blocks of ice down

alleyways to the customers. He would hand his $10 over to his mom each week, and she

would give him back $1 to ”blow”. In 1944, at the age of 17, Ben convinced his mother to sign

for him to enlist in the Navy. He spent 3 years on the LST903. While on the ship, a call was

made for anyone that was an experienced barber to report at once, which he did, with

absolutely no barber experience. He said it took a couple of weeks before he could look some

of those fellows in the eye in the mess hall, but eventually became proficient with the shears.

In 1946 he was honorably discharged and arrived back in Portland on his “new” Indian

Motorcycle he had purchased. He took a job at Wonder Bread Bakery in Portland and was

quite literally the “bread winner” for his mother and siblings as his father had passed away.

Soon he started business college classes which included Stenotype School in Portland where

he met his future wife Jeanne. One night while Jeanne was standing outside the building

waiting for Ben, another woman from the school said “here comes a dreamboat named desire”,

something Jeanne already knew.

Before he could use his new skills as a stenotypist, he got a job working for Oregon Electric, an

entity of SP&S Railroad (which later became Burlington Northern Railroad, now BNSF). He

started as a time keeper with an Extra Gang on the Oregon Trunk which followed the

Deschutes River from Wishram to Bend. “Way and the heck and gone out there in the woods

for months and months on end”, he lived in a box car equipped with icebox, a bed, a table and

a couple chairs. His brothers and Jeanne would sometimes come to visit him. They would

walk down to the river to catch their dinner, Rainbow Trout.

On October 26th, 1949 Ben and Jeanne were married. They would have their first baby Cindy

in 1952. 9 months later, Ben’s beautiful bride would be stricken with polio and be left a

quadriplegic. With his support, she would come home and they would have 2 more children as

his career at BN continued to ascend.

One day, he was roped into helping his wife Jeanne be a Campfire Girls leader. He was tasked

with driving the troop of girls and their leader wherever they needed to go. One of these places

was Camp Namanu in Sandy, Oregon. Ben was introduced to the Camp Chairman who quickly

enlisted Ben to assist him. That man promptly resigned and Ben was made Camp Chairman.

Ben LOVED it! Ben would spend many weekends at the camp rebuilding cabins, roofs, trails,

felling trees, and whatever else was needed to keep the girls safe and “not drenched”. At night

he would sleep in one special tree house that was almost over the top of the Sandy River. He

loved that place and all of the time he spent there.

In 1970, the railroad transferred him to St. Paul, Minnesota and he continued his ascent until

eventually becoming Director of Labor Relations for what is now called Burlington Northern.

He was a brilliant man and would write legal dissertations that in this day would require a legal

degree. He once wrote a computer program for the railroad just to make his departments jobs

easier! His employment would eventually take him to Billings, MT and Seattle, WA

.

He worked 38 years for Burlington Northern until he retired in 1987, just 9 months after his wife

Jeanne passed away. At that time he moved to Gresham, Oregon to be close to his family.

One of his passions was animals....mainly dogs, squirrels, hummingbirds, and anything that

needed protection, a roof, a belly scratch or peanuts. He didn’t care for cats, but he gave

several a home with him because they needed it. He could never deny any animal what they

needed. And we caught him loving on those cats many times. When he worked downtown in

Portland, he would take his lunch over to the zoo and sit by the monkey cages to share a grape

or two with the monkeys...until a male got jealous of him because the female was too happy for

Ben to appear! When Ben passed, his sweater had 2 peanuts in the pocket, just in case he

met up with a squirrel.

He loved fishing, woodworking, camping, chess (he once beat the Oregon State champion in a

spontaneous game), sailing, oysters, a good cigar or pipe, sculpting, painting, sketching, a

medium rare steak, cartooning, westerns, good movies, writing, creating poetry, hunting, flying

anything...kites, remote control planes, paper planes, building things, cussing, crossword

puzzles, Benny Hill, The Carol Burnett Show, snowmobiling, napping, cooking, reading, guns

(which he proudly taught his girls to respect and handle), having a martini or whiskey with one

of his people, playing pool by the hour - especially with his son-in-law, professional boomerang

maker/carver and flyer, anything fun within “reason”, such as launching his kids off the end of a

seesaw and watching them catapult through the air! Or pulling them in circles around the

backyard on a plastic saucer tied to his snowmobile at what seemed like 70 MPH. Once, when

she was 5 years old, he took his oldest daughter out to the river on his Vespa to go fishing.

The only place for her to sit was between his feet. They had a wonderful day, and upon

heading home, Ben was pulled over by the police who had been instructed to locate him by his

worried sick wife. He told his oldest daughter once, “We grew up together”. He also loved any

good prank. Just ask the neighbor boys that hit his girls with water balloons. When they crept

up to the front of the house, they were met with buckets of water coming from the king of

pranks hiding up on the roof. The first time he met one of his son-in-laws, Ben came down the

driveway with a big block of dry ice to keep in his cooler for a road trip. Ben was holding it in

his bare hands tossing it up in the air over and over saying “ouch, ouch, ouch!.....Here!!!” and

tossed it at him... it turned out to be a piece of styrofoam. And NO ONE in our house growing

up went downstairs to the basement without feeling like Inspector Clouseau in the Pink

Panther. As soon as he heard footsteps on the stairs, he would crouch down behind

something, then jump out to grab your leg with a giant roar.... just so he could hear you

scream!

He was fiercely loving. He chipped a tooth once clenching his jaw hugging one of his girls. He

was hugely empathetic. If anyone hurt a child, he would always want “5 minutes alone in a

room with them”. He loved the Lord... his Bible was worn and tattered. He had a few things to

“discuss” with God when he got there. Most likely Aliens. He owned thousands of books over

the years and he read each one 3, 4 or 5 times at least. John Grisham was his favorite author.

He always overpaid tradesmen. If the job was $100, he wrote the check for $200. And threw

in some tools he didn’t use anymore. He always got up and walked to his front window when

one of his girls would leave, as long as his legs would allow. He would wave out the window

until he couldn’t see our taillights. A friend said “because that’s what a good man does.” And

that he was.

He loved when the blackberries came into season. He made jam, desserts, and tried his hand

at blackberry wine once or twice. Decked out in a belt threaded through milk jugs with the

tops cut off, and a great big machete, off we would go blackberry picking. And he would

remind us “Blackberry bushes are NOT user friendly, and its even MORE painful getting

unstuck than stuck in em! SO! If I fall in, do NOT try to pull me out! Run to the house, get my

gun, run back here and put me out of my misery!”

He HATED being the center of attention. He never wanted a party thrown for him and he

always LOVED a party that was thrown for him. He loved his people to be near him laughing

and having fun. Nothing made him more happy than a house full of love and laughter, other

than when they all left and he could sleep. He never went to a barber. Instead, he would get a

“paper sack” as he called them, fold over the top, put it between his knees while the Vikings

played, and proceed to use his fingers and scissors to cut his hair to perfection. No comb. No

mirror. And all of his kids thought every dad did this! He loved a spontaneous visitor, especially

one that shared his love for good whiskey, and didn’t mind if he smoke his pipe. One recent

night his son-in-law was in town and stopped by to watch a movie with him at 7pm. They took

a selfie at 4:30 a.m. after a night of “snorting a few drinks and gabbing” as Ben would reiterate

on a voicemail the next day. He was delighted!

His favorite movie was “Lillies of the Field” with Sidney Poitier. He watched it with a grin on his

face. And when the last song played, he would mouth along with the words while his feet

wiggled back and forth. He would always apologize to everyone that watched it with him. As it

started he would warn: ”You’ll be singing the song for days”. And we did. On his last day, we

played the song in his ear. His eyes lit up and he smiled a little grin. When the nun said “HE

built the chapel!”...... Pop blinked his eyes closed and nodded, then proceeded to bop his head

a little to the tune. We hope it stuck in HIS head for a couple days.

There was so much to love about this man. He lived the life of 10 men, and lived it well.

Anyone that was fortunate enough to have crossed paths with him knew that. He was the type

of man we all would want our sons to grow to be and live a life as rich as his. He was a man’s

man. Protector of the weakest with the heart of a lion. There will never be another like him.

He was a giant.

Ben was preceded in death by his wife Jeanne, father Fred, mother Frances, and brother Jerry.

Survived by his children Cindy (Dick), Sandra (Jeanne) and Stephanie (Jim), brothers Dan, Tom

and sister Freddie, grandchildren Brittanie, Tiffanie, Benjamin and Sawyer, Great-Grandchildren

Jake, Cody, Caylin and Teagan.

“If it’s the good stuff, don’t put anything else in with it except ice”

“Dying is as much a part of life as living”