Ned E. Cole

Ned E. Cole was born in Saginaw, Michigan, in 1946 with just eight letters in his entire name. He was a damn cute kid. After he lost his mother at the tender age of seven, he was raised by his grandmother and his dad—and ate mostly Cheerios from there on out.

At Millington High School, Ned was on the speech-and-debate team and earned a scholarship to the University of Michigan. But the rigors of that fine institution proved too much for his small-town schooling. So after just a few lackluster semesters, he dropped out of college and enlisted in the U.S. Air Force in early 1966. As an airman, Ned was deployed to Thailand to load the bombs that were being dropped on Viet Nam.

We can credit the Air Force for bringing Ned to Vegas, as he found himself stationed at Nellis Air Force Base to finish out his military service. At a party with some of his buddies in the Spring of 1969, he met Sheri Whann. They were wed that August—a marriage that lasted over 55 years.

Ned worked hard to become a draftsman, and ultimately an architect. His signature circular elements adorn buildings that he designed in all five of the states in which he was licensed. He was proud to be an architect. He loved the engineering of it and the people he had the privilege of working with. So much so that he kept at it until he was nearly 77 years old.

But Ned could do more than just design buildings; he could construct, repair, and maintain them too. He designed—and along with Sheri and his daughters Jennie and Christy, built—a cabin up at Mount Charleston and their family home. Wildly mechanically inclined, Ned could fix everything, and he (only sort of) joked that he believed he’d been an Ancient Egyptian in a past life because he could rig up a pulley or lever to move just about any object.

Ned had a rock-solid, midwestern work ethic and spent a chunk of his life moonlighting to scrape up extra cash. But he also relished well-planned free time. In his younger years, he would tinker on classic Jaguars or Corvettes while listening to stand-up comedy albums on his 8-tracks, take the boat out on the lake, or ride ATVs up at the cabin. For a while, he even flew an ultralight airplane. More recently, he derived joy from feeding the birds in his backyard—the wild ones, and also the captive ones in the aviary that he built, complete with individual bird apartments for his dozens of finches. Speaking of that yard, he took great pride in it, particularly the lawn, which he’d often mow into a perfect croquet court on which he was nearly unbeatable.

Methodical, kind, even-keeled, curious, and genetically blessed with his own father’s dry sense of humor and quick wit, Ned was often described as just a damn good guy and a damn good architect. He was a damn good dad and grandpa too.

We sure do miss him.