Eulogy
delivered at Otis’s memorial service, December 17th, 2022, Avondale,
Arizona by D.B Fuller
“And
above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover
the multitude of sins.” (1st Peter 4:8)
Otis Thrasher has been described in many ways.
- “He was a master of sarcasm and orneriness.”
- “He was the uncle every kid wanted.”
- “He was like a second father to me.”
- “He was like an M&M with a hard outer shell but a soft core.”
- “He had a profound influence on my life.”
- “He didn’t have a college degree, but he was one of the smartest men I’ve ever met.”
- “My own dad was business-like. Uncle Eldo was Disneyland”
- "El Gringo loco, el gringo loco!” (Shouted by a Puerto Vallarta time-share huckster when he recognized Otis in a passing cab)
- "He was one of a kind."
Years ago when I was a young starving college student, Otis and
my sister Linda let me stay with them while I attended Arizona State. I had a
health issue and had to see a doctor in Phoenix. When the doctor came into the
examination room, he looked at my file and noticed my address. “You’re from
Buckeye? I grew up in Buckeye.” When I explained that I really wasn’t from
Buckeye, but was only staying with my brother-in-law, the doctor asked, “Who is
your brother-in-law?”. When I said,
“Otis Thrasher”, the doctor turned and asked incredulously, “Otis Thrasher is
your brother-in-law?” I nodded. “I played
ball with Otis.” Then the doctor shook
his head and said with a wry chuckle, “I could tell you stories.” -- Anyone who knew Otis could tell
stories. Let me share some.
The community of Buckeye Arizona was established in 1877. It wasn’t called
Buckeye at the time, but when the Buckeye canal brought water to the community
and the Post Office was named Buckeye, the name stuck. It was incorporated as a
municipality in 1929. Sixteen years later, its residents included Otis and
Ovell Thrasher. How this couple came to be in Buckeye is a conversation of its
own, but contributing factors were the great depression and the dust bowl. On
March 24, 1945, in the living room of their very modest home, Ovell gave birth
to a healthy baby boy. He brought good Karma into the world. After all, World
War II ended a few months later.
The baby was named after his dad, Otis, but his family always called
him by his middle name, Eldo. The country doctor who brought him into the world declared that he was the “Prettiest baby I’ve ever
delivered.” At birth, Eldo had a big sister Fern, four years old, and Brother Bob,
age six. His oldest sister Wanda was 10.
Unlike the Buckeye of today, Buckeye of the 1940’s reflected
small-town America. There was one main street, Old Highway 80. There were no
stop signs, no stop lights. Everyone
knew everyone else. Despite the Thrashers being, “poor as church mice”, Buckeye
Arizona proved to be fertile ground for a boy to grow up in. On Saturdays, the
Thrashers would pick cotton as a family to supplement their income. Little Eldo was proud when he got his very own cotton sack for Christmas. Another year when
there was no Christmas tree, Eldo made do by decorating a tumbleweed.
The Thrasher kids had an Uncle Pete who lived with them for a
time. Uncle Pete used, shall we say, rather colorful language. Little Eldo was a quick
study and readily made Uncle Pete’s colorful metaphors his own. His siblings
thought it was cute when their little brother swore. When Fern told me this a
couple of days ago, it explained a lot.
As an adolescent, Otis got in his share of trouble, such as
throwing eggs at cars on main street. When someone ratted them out, him and his
buddies had to go clean up the mess.
In high school he played the trumpet in the band but his real talent
was sports. He played football, basketball, and baseball. While he was good at
them all, he excelled at baseball. When he graduated from Buckeye Union High
School in 1964, he was offered a scholarship to play at Arizona Western in Yuma
Arizona.
This was a great opportunity. Otis was a promising young ball
player with considerable potential. But being a young nineteen-year-old kid,
the first time away from home proved to be a challenge. Youthful indiscretion
got in the way. Yuma was a border town with distracting temptations on the
other side of that border. Years later
Otis reflected on his mistakes and was left with a nagging feeling. He always
wondered how good of baseball player he could have been. He wondered if he
could have played professionally.
When he lost his baseball scholarship, Otis followed in the
footsteps of his brother Bob, who he always admired and looked up to. Otis enlisted in the army. His mother was not happy. The Viet Nam war
was raging. There was a good chance that
Otis would see combat. But after basic training, while the rest of his company
was sent to Viet Nam, Otis was singled out and sent to Germany. Having grown up
in the Arizona desert, frigid German winters nearly killed him. Other than
that, his stay in Germany proved to be a rich experience. When on leave, he was
able to travel and see neighboring countries and historic sites. Visiting one of the Holocaust sites left a
lasting impression.
When he was discharged from the service, Bob’s big-brother
influence came into play again. Bob was
a police officer for the Phoenix Police Department. Otis joined the force. Him and his brother had the opportunity to
work together at times. Otis quickly learned the challenges of being a Police
officer. One of the first calls he made as a cop came on Christmas day. A young
boy had received a bicycle for Christmas and soon after was struck by a car. The sight of a lifeless body in the street
and interactions with hysterical grieving parents were never to be forgotten.
When Bob considered a career change and talked of leaving the
Phoenix PD, Otis had less incentive to stay.
He had had a taste of undercover work.
In 1969 when the Department of Public Safety started an undercover
group, Otis was intrigued. More pay and
interesting work prompted a career change of his own. For the next twenty-nine years he worked as
an undercover agent for the state of Arizona.
Let’s pause a moment and talk about someone besides Otis. This
is an individual who has influenced me in the very best of ways. In 1969, my dear sister Linda had left her hometown
of Prescott, and was living/working in Phoenix. When her job at St. Luke’s hospital
grew uncomfortable, she felt like she needed a change. She didn’t have a clue
at the time how pivotal that decision would be. Through an employment agency
one of her roommates worked at, she found a job at the Arizona Department of Public
Safety.
Linda worked in finger printing and records. When officers made
an arrest and processed their prisoners, they brought them to this lovely young
lady for fingerprinting. When agents needed access to files and records, they
came to Linda. One of those agents was unlike any other.
Otis would tease and flirt with Linda, “We have to stop meeting
like this.” Flirting lead to a date, and
another date and in time romance. When the romance became obvious to Linda’s coworkers,
some expressed concern. Linda was the proverbial “girl next door”. She was world-class wholesome. She was pure
and innocent. On the other hand, Otis had a reputation. Linda’s Sergeant expressed concern, and
warned her, “Otis is really wild. Are you sure he’s your type?”
Linda wasn’t sure. But then Otis took her home to Buckeye to
meet his family. While there, Otis’s brother-in-law jack sustained an injury in
a family basketball game. He had to be taken to the hospital. It wasn’t
planned, but Linda ended up spending the night and got an insider’s view of the
Thrasher clan. What she saw was a home that brimmed with love. Linda was impressed with how Otis treated his
mother. He loved and adored her and would have done anything for her. Yes, he
was a “momma’s boy”, but not in a sissy way, but in the very best of ways. After that, Linda was hooked.
When they got engaged, Linda reciprocated and brought Otis to
Prescott to meet her family. As an undercover agent, Otis’ outward appearance
was perhaps.., subpar. He was not clean cut.
He had shoulder-length hair and a scraggily beard. Using the vernacular
of the day, he looked like a “hippy”. At the time, the term had all kinds of
negative connotations. In outward appearance, he wasn’t what most mothers wanted
their daughters to bring home. Linda’s mother had reservations. I’m happy to
say those reservations dissolved in time.
Linda and Otis eloped on May 24, 1970 in Winter Haven,
California. It was a bare-bones wedding. The couple declined the $50 option for the Justice of the Peace to conduct the
ceremony with a French accent. Eloping began the taming of “the wild man”.
Fifty-two years of marriage, three kids, and nine grandkids followed. Scott was
born in 1971 and Marcie in 1973. When Justin arrived in 1975, their family was
complete.
Otis loved kids. He had a lot of kid in
himself. Before he was married, he doted on his nieces and nephews. He’d pick
them up for a weekend, or even an entire week. He’d take them on shopping
trips. He would play games, which always seemed to be rigged in his favor. When he got married, he gained additional nieces and nephews on Linda's side. He gave them similar treatment.
In early marriage, Otis’ devotion to family was never more apparent
than when his mother was diagnosed with cancer. Him and Linda moved into his parent’s
home and cared for her during the week.
On weekends he let Fern and Bob have a turn. When his mom finally passed
Otis was devastated and never completely recovered from the loss.
During those early years of marriage, another incident provided a
glimpse of the compassion that sometimes hid beneath Otis’ exterior shell. As
an undercover agent, he often was issued a nice sports car. While driving with
his partner through a residential area, a small boy chased his ball into the
street. Otis slammed on the brakes and sent the car screeching sideways but he couldn’t
avoid the boy. The little guy was severely
hurt. Fearing he wouldn’t live long enough for an ambulance to arrive, the two
agents put the boy in their car and raced to the nearest hospital. He wasn’t breathing when they pulled into the
ER. Thankfully, doctors revived him. His recovery in the hospital took weeks. Otis
felt terrible. He visited the hospital every day and talked and offered comfort
to the boy and his family. When the boy finally
recovered, Otis kept in touch with him and his parents for years afterwards.
Otis and Linda chose to raise their kids on a very rural five-acre
plot on the far outskirts of Buckeye. Here,
the kids learned to work. They were all introduced to hoes at a young age. Not
hoes that might be found on the streets of East Van Buren. We’re talking gardening. We’re talking weeds.
And true to form, when Otis brought the hoes home, it was done with theatrics
and a flourish. With eyes wide and hands in the air, he exclaimed, “I have a
surprise for you.”
Otis was very generous. He was also an excellent mentor to his
own kids. He was both when he had them box up many of their toys, gather unused
clothes, and other items and deliver them to impoverished residents of a nearby
“trailer park” just before Christmas. Similarly,
he and his family blessed the lives of many impoverished Mexicans at Rocky
Point. These people had nothing. Some
relied on cardboard shacks for shelter. They were very grateful to receive hundreds
of brand-new shirts (confiscated bootleg merchandise), household goods, and
even an occasional bike for a kid. Thirty years later, those memories are
priceless.
Psychologists use the term “unfinished business” to refer to
parents who attempt to fulfill their own childhood dreams through their kids. I
suspect that was in play with Otis. He loved
when his sons played sports. He spent hours playing with them at the park. He
coached their little league and Pop Warner teams. He was at virtually every one
of their high school games. He was a
devoted dad.
When asked about pleasant memories, every Thrasher recalls
family camping trips to the White Mountains. On these trips, there was plenty
of bonding and conversation around the campfire. There were talent shows. There
were various competitions. For each, Otis was the self-appointed commissioner. He was the commissioner of the hand-crafted
boat races. He was the commissioner of fishing. If one found themselves to be the
winner of any competition, Otis was quick with a reason why they didn’t really
win and why he did. Is it okay to call someone a cheater at their own funeral? It
was all done with a sparkle in his eye and with his normal flare for fun.
Otis had a storied twenty-nine-year career with DPS. As an
undercover agent, he dealt with the worst of humanity, some very
despicable human beings. He made thousands of arrests. He participated in some
of the biggest drug busts in history. When serving search warrants, it was his
choice to be the first one through the door. He put himself in harm’s way every
day. It wasn’t easy on his wife, but he
did it to keep society safe.
As a DPS agent he never gained rank, but that was not his
intent. He worked thousands of cases. He put a lot of bad guys in jail. He
became a legend in the law enforcement community. He was well known and respected throughout
the state by prosecutors and defenders alike.
Otis could be a work-aholic.
During downtime from his DPS duties, he worked other jobs. An interesting one involved enforcing music copyright laws. His
hard work and dedication was rewarded with a Gold-Record. The plaque read, “The
Recording Industry Association of America
presents its honorary gold medal to Otis Thrasher, Criminal Investigator,
Arizona State Department of Public Safety, in recognition of his extraordinary
dedication and zeal in enforcing the laws against counterfeiting and piracy of
sound recordings, April 15, 1973.”
In 1976, while on duty one evening with his partner, the two came upon a bad traffic accident. A car was overturned and in flames with a woman inside. There were onlookers at the scene who stood helplessly watching. Otis nearly lost a finger and was burned when he acted. He was subsequently recognized for his valor. One of the awards he received stated, “This certifies that Otis E. Thrasher has a been awarded a Carnegie Medal in recognition of outstanding act of heroism. Bronze Medal awarded to Otis E. Thrasher, who helped to rescue Gail A. Peacock from burning, Phoenix, Ariz, September 15, 1976. At night, Mrs. Peacock, aged 32, was driving her station wagon when it skidded, overturned, and caught fire. Among those attracted was Thrasher, aged 31, narcotics agent. He and another agent ran to the inverted vehicle, on which flames covered the rear exterior and filled the inside rear compartment. Just after the other agent had tried in vain to remove Mrs. Peacock, who was only semiconscious, there was an increase in the flames both inside and outside. Thrasher crawled into the station wagon to his shoulders and succeeded in moving Mrs. Peacock to the window. He and the other agent then pulled her out of the vehicle and dragged her away as the flames increased. Mrs. Peacock recovered after being hospitalized for burns she had suffered.”
A year later in 1977, his dedication to duty and of a job well
done was recognized by The Disabled Veterans Department of Arizona. Their Outstanding
Officer of the Year was awarded to Otis with, “Appreciation for your courage
and devotion to duty.“ Given the large pool of eligible officers, this
recognition was remarkable. A similar
award followed in 1981 from the Fraternal Order of Police. Their Officer of the
Year Award was, “For performing law enforcement duties in an outstanding
manner, for making significant contributions within the community and
performing services outside of your chosen profession.”
Otis worked hard but he also played hard. On the play side, he developed
an overzealous love for Mexico. I suppose it started with road trips to Rocky
Point, but soon branched out to other Mexican locations, including Puerto
Vallarta, Cancun, and others. In time he and Linda accumulated four time
shares. This gave them plenty of vacation capacity, but that wasn’t
enough. Otis wasn’t happy unless he was
sharing those time shares with family and friends. He was very generous in this
respect and took countless individuals on week-long vacations to some very
beautiful places. Hawaii was also a very common destination. There are many in
this audience who were blessed by Otis’ time-share generosity.
I mentioned earlier Otis enforcing music copyright laws for the
recording industry. Over the years, this led to other opportunities in the
entertainment industry, particularly pertaining to trademarks, branding, and
related bootleg merchandise. In this capacity, he traveled with many different bands. He toured extensively with Garth Brooks and
became his friend. How cool is that? Other
groups he traveled with included Twisted Sister, Guns and Roses, Aerosmith, Brian
Adams, Bon Jovi, and Journey. And if your curious, note that Otis liked Steven
Tyler. He thought Axl Rose was despicable.
The connections Otis’ made led him to handling merchandising at
local venues. For labor needs, he typically turned to family and friends. I’m
curious. Could I see a show of hands of all those who have worked for Otis?
(Half the audience raised hands)
Brothers and Sisters, let me close with these remarks. I love
and have considerable faith in our Lord, Jesus Christ. In the gospel of John,
we read of Lazarus and his sisters, Mary and Martha. They were Jesus’ friends.
When Lazarus grew seriously ill, his sisters sent word to Jesus to come quickly
to heal him. But Lazarus died before Jesus arrived. They wrapped him in burial
clothes and put his body in a tomb. It
wasn’t until four days later that Jesus did come. He called Lazarus from his
grave and raised him from the dead. Clearly,
Jesus had and still has power over death. He raised himself from the dead and
was resurrected after his crucifixion. Through
his power, each of us will also be raised from the dead. I’m grateful for this
gift. I thank God that I will walk and talk with Otis, my friend and my brother,
once again.
