LeRoy “Lee” Arthur Vance

LeRoy “Lee” Vance

LeRoy “Lee” Arthur Vance
Lee was born in Lansing, Michigan and was the last of eight siblings. He was married for 47 years to Connie Vance who preceded him in passing. He is survived by his daughter, Patricia, his grandson, Jacob Vance, and two great-grandsons, Noah and Isaiah Vance. He was 83 at the time of his passing.

It is difficult to honor this man with the written word. To the world, he was quiet and stoic in nature which presented a standoffish persona. He didn’t waste words – he spoke honestly and directly. It was a trait that made you appreciate him but only if you could bear an honest opinion or observation. However, he never gave such statements voluntarily as he was a private person and respected others’ privacy as well. As you can imagine, growing up with such a Dad had its challenges but I am a better person for it. He was my rock – my confidante -and most importantly, he was my friend.

Dad was a Vietnam veteran who served 23 years in the United States Navy. He was proud of his service to his country, especially during that time of political and social change. He once admitted to me that he was wounded and saddened by some of the negative responses he received when he returned home. However, he did appreciate the current population now understanding that policies were made in the closed rooms of Washington D.C. and that servicemembers were acting on the integrity of their oath to defend this nation.

He was a master gardener, skills that he learned and honed while growing up in Michigan and spending time with his grandparents at their farm. Due to the Navy stationing him at regular intervals throughout the country, he looked at each new duty station as a gardening challenge. There were a few times that he was told by neighbors that having a garden in the ground was not possible due to climate or poor soil but it never deterred him. I think that he gained some perverse pleasure by surprising the naysayers by sharing his harvested veggies as he had a special smug grin at such times.

Both he and Mom had a special love of animals, particularly dogs. On occasion, he would tell me that he and Mom were “fostering” an animal until they found a good home. It was then my turn to have a smug smile because both of us knew that once an animal crossed their threshold it was in its ‘forever home’. This practice resulted in quite the menagerie. At one time they had seven dogs of various ages and breeds, a mourning dove, and tanks of goldfish that they rescued from school fairs to keep them from being flushed into oblivion. Neither he or Mom appreciated my observation that the fish were big enough to fillet or that dove was actually a culinary delight known as squab.

We eventually began to refer to Dad as a “Disney princess”. He earned this moniker due to how wildlife responded and interacted with him. It wasn’t unusual to witness hummingbirds lighting on his shoulders while he worked in the garden or sat quietly on his porch. The local squirrels would nervously approach him and place their paws on his knees. His backyard became a safe haven for a pregnant doe annually until a year or so ago. When she didn’t show up one year he worried if she had become some hunter’s trophy. The magic of these relationships is that they never started out from his enticing them with food or other goodie. They came of their own accord first, attracted by something within him and he in turn would make them welcome.

Dad loved his family fiercely. There are stories that could be told that would paint him in the form of a literal warrior for his clan but that part of him was deeply hidden and not brought to the surface unless circumstance required it. He was, in my opinion, one of the best fathers I have ever witnessed. This is not to imply that he was without faults. But, unlike some people, he tried to correct them for his daughter, grandson, and great-grandsons as he believed in teaching by example. The lessons he gave were more often about things that required self-reflection so we, too, could become better people.

Per Dad’s wishes, there will be no service or grave to visit. His desire was that he be scattered deep in the woods – a place he considered his “church” of peace and contemplation. Because of his decision there will be no stone to mark his name or time in the world. But, if he would have wanted a stone this is what would have been written on it:
When he shall die,

Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine,
That all the world will be in love with night.
And pay no worship to the garish sun.