William Tuttle

Greetings and God bless. I was William Tuttle and this is my obituary, On October 27th 1 lost a 4 1/2 year battle with cancer, passing quietly at home surrounded by people who loved me. I am survived by my Lovely Bride Cheryl (Mrs, Purple), my son Sean Tuttle and Grandson Michael of Elk City Oklahoma, my Dad Max Kurito El Cajon Calif, my brother Daniel (Becky) of Twin Falls, my dear sister "Sister Dear" Teresa Graf of SIC Utah, my Brother James (Kenya) of Bonney Lake Wash and my Nephew, Carson Tuttle, and Niece Jamie Wolfe, my Granddaughter Mary William Landavazo. Israel and Irma Guerrero of Hansen id. adopted Cheryl and I into their family and gave us three beautiful granddaughters, Crystal (Luis) Vega, Citlali (Yovanny) Lugo, and Erica Guerrero, and grandson Jesus (Blanca) Guerrero and Great grandchildren Aydan, Mia, Labron, and Sofia. I must mention a very special young lady Angelica (Angel) Mireles and her sisters Adriana, (Princess) and Sara (Sweetheart). Here I lift up the "Chosen One", Ashley Herrin, whom the Lord chose and is using in mighty ways. She is the daughter we would have picked if we were allowed to pick our daughters. Cheryl's Mom, Winona Watson calls for special mention here. While she didn't actually survive me, she was such a blessing to me that she still seems to be by my side,

Now for a brief sketch of my life: I was born in 1952 to Erline and Delos Tuttle in the Naval Hospital at Fort Balboa, Panama Canal Zone and was raised on various military bases in Europe and America so I spent the first fifteen or so years of my life as an Army brat, My family retired to Twin Falls, Idaho in 1965 and with the exception of a five-year hitch in the Navy I lived in Twin Falls for the remainder of my life. I discovered the wonders of weed at seventeen and pursued that path with great enthusiasm; I also acquired a taste for beer. Courtesy of that beer I got to know the inside of a couple of County jail cells along the way, By the time I was twenty I was the full-blown proto-typical barefoot, long-haired dope-smoking hippie. I worked no more than I had to. I spent the time instead getting thoroughly marinated in Marxism. I fancied myself to be a warrior in the vanguard of the revolution, in the forefront of the struggle to free mankind from the shackles of Capitalism and the mind-numbing thought control of Christianity. We didn't need a fairy tale god in the sky to tell us what was right and wrong, good and evil. We had the mighty engine of human reason with which to determine that for ourselves.

In 1976 I met a young lady named Cheryl. Why the Good Lord would choose to inflict a scrawny, sunken-chested, long-haired, beer swilling, dope smoking socialist street freak such as myself upon the poor girl was not readily apparent at the time, but He did. We were married within a few months. After couple of years she made it plain that if I couldn't figure out a way to keep a job the prospects of our future together were questionable. I loved her enough to make some adjustments. So I joined the Navy, I figured that if I got a job where they throw you in jail if you don't show up for work then maybe I would show up for work. I joined in 1979, and I was honorably discharged in 1984. For those of you who know what it is, I have the high honor of being a Golden Shellback.

Cheryl and I came back to Twin Falls where I jumped right back into the stoner scene without missing a beat. I'd never left it, actually. I'd managed to get through a half a decade in the Navy while partying hard in my off time without getting caught; however, I had figured out how to keep a job. I became my own boss. Cheryl and I worked up a business making little welded artsy-craftsy metal sculptures