Willard "Mac" Thurber

Willard Mac Thurber, known by friends and family as Mac or Mac Daddy or Grandpa, was born on November 12, 1933, in the small town of Patterson, Missouri. Born in the midst of the Great Depression, life was tough and opportunities limited. He would talk often about the struggles for his family and how he would be bounced back and forth between his sisters’ homes. As he got older, he would hitchhike to get around. He tells a story of hitchhiking to Litchfield, Illinois, he was around 10 or 11, and it was snowing and bitter cold. His shoes had holes in his soles and no winter coat to keep him warm. He was hungry and tired when he walked into Litchfield. He recollects with gratitude a policeman picking him up, taking him to the station and feeding him a hot meal and letting him sleep in one of the cells for the night. The next day he drove him to his sister, Antonette’s, home. If you’ve ever wondered where his toughness came from, this experience is telling.

In 1953, at the age of twenty (20), my Dad joined the Air Force. He served twenty-four (24) years, and was stationed all over the world. From Albuquerque, to Missouri, to Otis AFB, Massachusetts, Hampton, Virginia, Guam, France and Vietnam, he appreciated every experience he was given except for his two tours in Vietnam (1966-1970). He would tell you it was hell. It wasn’t until later in life that he would even recount any of the horrors he experienced. He would tell you that those images never leave you, and admitted the experience strongly, and negatively, affected his life into his thirties and forties. Trying to forget the Vietnam experience for my Dad involved lots of drinking, hurt feelings, and damaged relationships, a regret he carried into his later life. He was given the Bronze Star for the exceptional service he gave to the Air Force during these two tours, and the unquestionable judgment he showed in the midst of war. Notwithstanding this nightmare experience, he appreciated the Air Force, credited it for educating him and giving himself and his family stability. At the prime of his career, he supervised the avionics division at Richards Gebaur Air Force Base in Belton, Missouri. My Dad was a renowned expert in the field of avionic electronics and literally memorized the electronic schematics of most of the military planes flown by the USAF. He would be flown all over the world to troubleshoot and resolve electronic issues on an airplane that no other person could fix. He was one of a kind.

Dad was a patriotic man. He believed we live in the greatest country on earth, and that every man and woman should be willing to fight for the freedoms it lends us. He would often say he would die for his country if need be, and I believed him.

In his fifties and sixties, Dad made so many changes. He put drinking and smoking behind him. He got himself a Jack Russell and named her Sophie. She was a brilliant pup and Dad was a dog whisperer. Dad taught her how to get his slippers, fetch his phone, and bring the paper inside from the driveway just to name a few tasks. She went every with him, and Dad would say that everytime he went past a burger joint, she would turn her head and watch as the distance would grow between her and the burger joint. She loved cheeseburgers, and Dad would treat her to one often. Sophie lived eighteen (18) years. Letting her go was a hard one for my Dad.

When Dad hit his seventies (70), he met a woman named Yvonne. They met at a gas station, there pups opened up conversation between them. Both of them dog lovers, this connection kept their friendship going and as time passed, their friendship grew into love and marriage. Their friendship and love spanned nearly twenty years. They have shared so many big moments, marriages, graduations, the death of Dad’s beloved sister, Marie, the devastating loss of his grandson, and several of their friends. My Dad loved Yvonne with all his heart, and often called her his angel. Their marriage was a great example for others as they both showed great selflessness and partnership throughout the years.

When Dad turned eighty, he was diagnosed with cancer, so the last ten years has involved a gallant fight against the disease. Mom and I went to all his doctors appointments and stayed with him throughout each hospital stay. He liked to call us his team, and was always so greatful for the support. He was loved so much by the nurses and doctors at the Cancer Center in Independence where he would take his treatments and his doctor was located. I know my Dad would want to give a huge thank you to his doctor, Dr. Chuda. Always gentle and kind and patient with my Dad, Dad would tell you he was the best doctor. Thank you to the whole gang for all you did for my Dad and all the love and kindness you gave him.

Dad died on February 8, 2024 at 9:30 p.m. with his wife and I by his side. He was the bravest and most courageous man I’ve ever known.

The only way to end this story is to tell you about my Dad’s love for his family. He lived for his children and grandchildren and his wife. He would worry and fret about everyone and was always ready to help in any way he could in difficult times. Until he became very weak, he never missed all the fun stuff. Birthday parties, Christmas Eve dinner, Thanksgiving dinner, and he would make it to as many baseball games of his grandkids that he felt able to attend. He loved the Royals, and I can’t tell you how many games we gathered at his house to watch together. It was the same with the Chiefs. So many memories of hanging out and watching the games.

He never met a stranger. We often went to Corner Café after his treatments and he befriended a waitress. She was pregnant at the time, and he would tell Yvonne, “Mom, give her a good tip.” This often meant $30, $40, or $50 being left for her. He came to love her like a daughter. I took in two young persons from Mexico, Mario, in 2010, and, Dulce, in 2022-23. He embraced them both and considered them both his grandchildren. Their families would come to visit, and they came to love and respect Grandpa. Their respect for him is evident in the distance they will travel to attend his funeral. Mario and his wife, Samantha, are coming from Vancouver, Canada, and Dulce and Mario’s mother, Sylvia, will be traveling from Hermosillo, Mexico. He had friends from the military, Dan Talbott, who we all came to know as Uncle Dan, and, Brad Finch, who became Uncle Brad. We shared many vacations and special times with both of these men and their families. Dad loved them like brothers. And, his neighbors of thirty years, Jim and Brenda. When Dad moved into his house on Downing, he was sixty years young, Jim and Brenda were just young whippersnappers. Dad would often help Jim with projects he was working on, give him fatherly advice and guidance and a pat on the back when needed. As Dad aged, this relationship shifted. Jim would often lend Dad a hand with chores and projects and give him a needed pat on the back when his battle with cancer became overwhelming for him. Dad treasured his relationship with Jim.

Dad came to Love the Lord and to honor him, pray to him, and always try to follow Jesus’ example. He was baptized by his friend and pastor, Pete Winstead. Pastor Pete became a great friend of my Dad, and he had a way of explaining the mysteries of God in a way my Dad could understand and relate. I know Dad loved him immensely and cherished the times they shared.

I am certain that the Lord welcomed my Dad into heaven, and that he is celebrating his everlasting life with his sister, Marie, the Mother of his children, Willa, and his sister-in-law and brother-in-law, Geneva and Jim, his son, Jeff, and grandson, Austin.

Dad leaves behind his wife, Yvonne; three children, Doug Thurber of Lees Summit, Brad Thurber of Independence, and Michelle and Chase Higinbotham of Lees Summit; his grandchildren, Brooke and Adam Maier of Shawnee, Kansas, Jason Thurber of Oklahoma, Alli and Leon Shih of Lees Summit; Alex Higinbotham (and Allison Pratt) of Kansas City, Missouri, Chloe Higinbotham of Lees Summit, Demi Thurber of Raymore, Missouri, Emilee McArthur and Elliette McArthur of Grandview, Missouri, Mario and Sam Cordova of Vancouver, Canada, Dulce Herrera of Hermasillo, Mexico and Soomin Ahn of Korea; and his ten (10) great-grandchildren, Hadley, Charlie, Luke, Heath, Willa, Eli, Janis, Alyssa, Frankie, and Nicholas; and, many nieces and nephews that he loved dearly. He left a wonderful legacy.

Dad was preceded in death by his son, Jeffrey Thurber, his eight brothers and sisters, and his grandson, Austin Thurber.