Richard Lewis Bunstock

Richard Lewis Bunstock, 78, died Sunday, Feb. 19, 2006, at McCook, Neb.

He was preceded in death by three wives; Donna (Sullivan) Bunstock, Merry (Meints) Bunstock, and Deloras (Nickerson) Bunstock.

He is survived by son James Bunstock and wife Kerin of Lincoln, Neb.; daughters Candice Arent and husband Paul of Loveland, Colo., Yolanda Weimer and husband Ron of Highlands Ranch, Colo., and Jackelyn Nickerson and husband Pete Palek of North Platte, Neb.; brother William Bunstock and wife Ursula of Chico, Calif.; stepsons Troy Erdman and wife Rita of McCook and Derek Erdman and wife Ginger of North Platte; 10 grandchildren and six great-grandchildren.

He was born Sept. 30, 1927, at McCook to Clarence and Lillie Bunstock. He enlisted in the U.S. Navy in 1944, and served four years until his discharge in 1948. He was married to Donna Sullivan of Cambridge, Neb., before shipping overseas. On returning from the service to McCook he hired out with the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad, where he worked until his retirement 41 years later in 1989. His wife, Donna, died in 1969, and he married Merry Meints of McCook in 1970. They were divorced in 1974, and he married Deloras Nickerson of Gothenburg, Neb., in 1975. They made their home in Cedar Bluffs, Kan., and alternated living between Cedar Bluffs and the Sandpipers Resort in Edinburg, Texas until Deloras' death in 2002. Afterward, Dick lived briefly in Edinburg before returning home to Cedar Bluffs in 2005, where he lived until his death.

Dick was many things during what he described as a long and rich life -- railroader, hunter, sailor, traveler, builder and craftsman, writer, naturalist and naturist, and proud patriarch. He was a prolific poet, publishing two books, and was named a Poet In Residence for the State of Kansas. Following his retirement, Dick and Deloras lived a seemingly contradictory life, spending winters in deep south Texas and traveling broadly, and in the summers living a quiet existence on their estate in Cedar Bluffs, hosting family and friends and reveling in the quiet solitude. They were proud and unabashed nudists, and Dick was in all things a staunch supporter or a vocal critic. He knew no middle ground, and lived and died on his own terms.