Gordon Edward Borst, age 77, of Bark River passed away Thursday, January 17, 2008.
Mr. Borst was born July 18, 1930 in Pontiac, Michigan, the son of the late Glen and Annabelle (Hovde) Borst. He served in the United States Navy from 1948-1952 and was a Korean War veteran. On June 26, 1954 Gordon married Mary Ellen Lynch in St. Paul, Minnesota. Following his honorable discharge from the Navy he went west to work on cattle and sheep ranches. Later he was a manager for several Neisner Brothers retail stores. He and Mary owned and operated The People
Anonymous
So sorry to hear of Gordies passing, What a wonderful tribute from a son-in-law.
Rosemary DeLong (Kapping)
Lakeland, FL
Mary, Allison, Julie, and Kate,
My mom just told me about Gordon’s passing (Bedie Gasteyer called her today). I am very saddened by this news. He was my godfather, after all. I will always remember how much fun he and my father had when they were together. We can think of the two Gordons up in heaven having fun together again.
Love to you all,
CindyAbair
Rochester, MN
To all of us who have had the pleasure of knowing Gordon, he will be deeply missed. I hope that everyone who remembers him, and what he was like, will be able to relate to this poem. It was put together from some fond memories of the family.
Gordon’s Final Poem
What can be said,
About this husband and father?
If he knew I’d be reading this,
I’m sure he’d say, “Donny…don’t bother.”
But I’d like to say a few things,
About this tough older man.
I’m sure he’d whip me just for writing this,
And in his mind, he thinks he still can.
He started out on a ranch with cattle and horses,
Where he spent many years horseback-riding as a boy.
But his latest adventure was delivering Pizza’s,
And bringing some home for the Grandkids to enjoy.
He was tough, hard, and stern,
Sometimes ornery and mean.
But there was also a loving side,
When looked closely, could be seen.
Though he didn’t like to show it,
Or share this soft tender side.
I first saw it coming out,
When he took Steven and Hannah for a ride.
In that old Escort wagon,
Why he even let them drive.
Back when Steven was about 7,
And I think Hannah was just 5.
Although it was only in the field,
They’ll remember that memory most of all.
When the summer time’s over,
And the leaves start to fall.
There was one other time,
When his soft heart showed through.
Back when Matt and Nick challenged him,
To run a quick lap or 2.
Circling around the old Grainary,
Though his knees were way out of whack!
He’d say, “I’ll take a few aspirins and a glass of water,”
When I finally make it back!”
Another time, a few years later,
When Becca & Abbie came along.
They’d all hide inside the closet,
And wait for Grandpa to come home.
He’d head straight for that closet door,
To put his coat and hat in there.
And the kids would jump out at him.
And certainly give him a scare.
Though he’d always act surprised,
Each time he’d open the door,
Even though the kids did that same thing,
At least 50 times before.
And OH, how he loved to cook.
And there was always so much food!
Waking up to great smells from the kitchen,
Always put ME in a good mood!
He was quite a talented poet,
Being a big inspiration for me.
His poems about “Salt” and “Andy”,
And that lovable old “Sweet Pea”.
And there was “Sweet Pea’s” friend “Hercules”,
Why I can almost see it now.
Little Ole Sweet Pea was a lamb,
But little “Herc” was a cow.
But funny as it may seem,
He would follow Gordon around.
When he’d walk throughout the Farm,
There little “Herc”, would be found.
That lasted for quite a while,
Until that one dreadful day,
When the butcher truck arrived,
To haul some of Gordon’s cows away.
Now he made it perfectly clear to them,
“Don’t lay a finger on my prize steer!”
But he came home after work that day.
To find his biggest fear.
The butchers, as it turned out,
Took the wrong steer by mistake.
So, when the meat finally arrived,
Gordon refused to partake.
He’d spend countless hours in the hay-mow,
With the Grandkids and a homemade rope-swing.
Made from binder-twine and some duct tape.
His solution for fixing most anything.
He walked beside all his Grandkids, at one point or another,
Out in the yard, or around the arena,
Teaching them the basics of Farm-life and Horsemanship,
Saddled up on the back of old “Rona”.
He enjoyed watching the deer from a lawn chair,
Down by the big shady Elm tree.
Counting them with great exaggeration,
At how many he could clearly see.
He’d wear NO shirt in the summer time,
And always have the greatest tan.
But he’d certainly be as white as a ghost,
From his toes right up to his waist-band.
Most every day throughout the winter,
And during the summer time too.
You could find him wearing his holey sweat pants,
Or his favorite long-johns, white or blue.
He would talk so freely, always using his hands,
With all of the stories he’d tell.
He’d get on a kick, with the phrases he chose,
Like his latest favorite phrase of, “Oh well”.
And when someone complained about cuts or scratches,
Or when he’d notice a tear would start.
You could pretty much always hear him say,
“Don’t worry, it’s a long ways from your heart!”
He learned to play the guitar,
While on-board the “U.S.S. Sicily”.
I can almost hear him playing now.
Singing songs about love and misery.
I remember how he’d play on his old guitar,
A heart wrenching tune like “Old Shep”.
Then jump right into a lively song like “Red Wagon”,
That’s something that I won’t ever forget.
He has been called by many names,
Such as “Dad, Papa, or Grandpa Gordon”.
And a few others that I have been told,
But to mention here would definitely be forbidden.
He was certainly “One of a kind”,
I’m sure that’s what everyone who knew him would say.
Why the noise he made just by blowing his nose,
Could be heard from more than a mile away.
He was known by way too many to list,
He was basically a “Mascot” of the town.
When he’d make his appearance just by walking in a room,
Would change people’s faces, to a smile from a frown.
He wore his moon boots during the winter,
Never without the plastic bags inside.
He’d hobble along with his wobbly knees,
As if he was always ready for High-Tide.
When it came time for him to bring a little calf home,
And he’d transport it back from afar.
He’d put it in whichever vehicle he was driving at the time,
Whether it was his old truck or Mother’s new car.
And when the calf would get a little rambunctious,
Gordon knew just what to do.
Why he’d stick out his thumb, for the calf to suck on,
Where he learned this trick, I never knew.
And when my sweet bride was just a young girl,
She’d take her book and climb up in a tree.
She’d sit there and read as the day went by,
For several hours, that’s where she’d be.
But when her time was finally over,
And she was all done reading for the day.
She couldn’t come down, but instead had to wait,
For her Dad to chase the cows away.
He had held many jobs, kind of a jack of all trades,
He drove a Nabisco truck, and later a School bus.
But he didn’t have the patience for so many kids,
So he found that pizzas make much less of a fuss.
He enjoyed reading, writing, and cooking.
And also his farm animals, of course.
But if you ask anyone who knew him they’d say,
He was best known for his love for a horse.
And if his little red Ford Ranger could talk,
Think of all of the stories it could tell.
Providing Zach and Jake with their very first driving lessons,
And teaching Nick how to drive a 5-Speed so well.
Another thing he did regularly, pretty much every night,
Was his weight lifting down on the farm.
Why he’d even sneak under-aged Nickolas an occasional beer or two.
I guess to him, he didn’t really see the harm.
I’ll never forget his antics, and how he’d get so worked up,
Not wavering in his beliefs, even one bit.
He was very opinionated, and was never ever wrong,
“And the fact is, that’s all there is to it!”
He would run laps with the girls, at the track across the road,
In the evenings, every chance that he could.
He did this for years, always staying in shape,
Back when his knees were still good.
There was a story about Dale, and how he tried to trade in,
His wife Julie, why he even offered to help her pack.
Why Dale even said, he’d up the ante just a little,
But I guess Gordon wasn’t willing to take her back.
He may have been a little difficult to live with at times,
But he always gave great encouragement to us all.
Whether it was advice about dating, investments, or business,
Or exactly how to hit a ping-pong ball.
He taught all the girls many valuable lessons.
At times he was as tough as a bear.
Even when teaching them to play games like ping-pong or checkers,
He’d still make them beat him fair and square.
So now, here we are, as his season has changed,
Like so many lives often do.
We?re left with the thought of never seeing him again,
But someday, I surely hope to.
Now he’s resting assured as he gazes out across,
All the fields and meadows he’d roam.
There’s one thing for sure, that can certainly be said.
This cowboy has finally gone home.
Don (The youngest Son-In-Law)
22 January 2008
Don Anderson
Panama City, FL
Dear Mary and Family
So sorry to hear of the death of your husband father and grandfather. I worked for Gordon when he had the People’s Cafe. He was a great guy and will be missed. My prayers are with you all during this difficult time.
Judy O’Connell Warner
Escanaba, MI
We were so saddened to hear about Gordon. My Mom had talked with him about 3 weeks ago and they were comparing aching knees and hips. I have wonderful memories of him and his horse Bo when he had the horses in the tree farm across from our house. He was a true gem and will be greatly missed. God bless all of you.
Denise and Bea Sayklly
Escanaba, MI
Mr. Borst will truly be missed. Thanks for letting me be part of the family.
Love,
Sonia (Anzalone) Maguire
Trenton, MI
So sosrry for your lost, Gordon was a good fun loving man he will be sadly missed, WE will keep you and your family in our thoughts and prayers.
Jean and Connie Mongrain
Escanaba, MI
Allison & Julie,
Sorry to hear about your Dad. Our prayers are with you & your family. My parents told me about the accident. God bless you all.
Karen & Jim Hjort
DePere, WI