Gary Meeker

Dec. 31, 1937 - Nov. 8, 2024

Gary Lee Meeker died peacefully in his Sacramento home on November 8, 2024, from complications of post-polio syndrome. Born December 31, 1937, in The Dalles, Oregon, Gary was raised on a ranch rooted in the 1890s homesteads of his great-grandfathers Lewis Anderson and Philip Meeker. A born risk-taker who always evaded disaster through his unerring sense of direction, remarkable problem-solving ability, sheer determination, and iron stomach, as a youth he engaged in misguided adventures ranging from solo cliff ascents to blizzard expeditions to inadvertently drinking from a cistern full of dead squirrels. On the flip side, his Zen-like serenity also made lying on the ground watching the clouds a favorite childhood pastime. Always interested in learning, he enjoyed evenings in his family's Pleasant Ridge farmhouse reading the multi-volume encyclopedia cover to cover by the light of the oil lamp—this was before the New Deal brought electricity to the rural area—while his father, Earl Meeker, read the farming news, his grandfather, Samuel Meeker, read the Bible, and his mother, MaryAlice Bates Meeker, baked Parker House rolls in the wood-burning range oven. Gary's interest in mountain-climbing began when he was a teen. He became a member of the famed Portland climbing group the Mazamas, eventually making multiple ascents of many of the Cascade peaks. In fact, he summited Mount Hood on the very day that he came down with a life-threatening case of polio. Fighting his way back to health as a senior at The Dalles High School, his life was further rocked by his mother’s death. After graduating in 1956, Gary found that his farming duties, which had included driving wheat trucks from age eight, vaccinating calves, and tossing branches into the fire wagon to clear fields for planting, proved no match for the lure of higher education. With his father's encouragement, he became the first in his family to go to college, ultimately earning a Ph.D. in Zoology from Washington State University. A 33-year career as a professor at CSU Sacramento followed, during which he enjoyed teaching cell biology to un-jaded freshmen and studiously avoided campus politics. Throughout, he continued backpacking, which brought him to Nepal in 1979 on an unforgettable 30-day trek of the then-undeveloped Annapurna Circuit. He also was an accomplished sailor, buying his first boat at age 14 and later sailing the Florida Keys and the San Juan Islands and racing his Erickson 27 in the Sacramento River Delta and San Francisco Bay. Following his retirement in 2001, Gary energetically took up new hobbies including woodworking with his vast collection of antique tools and participating in engine shows as Secretary of the Gold Country Flywheelers Club. A fixture on the Northern California county fair circuit in his gleaming 1956 Airstream Bubble, Gary delighted fairgoers with his wooden "pen factory," made up of an intricate setup of antique "one-lunger" gas engines driving hacksaws, lathes, drill presses, and a grinding wheel via a web of pulleys and clutches. Above all, Gary dove into every interest with an enthusiasm so infectious it drew all around him into its orbit. Typically reserved, he sparkled when talking about his latest hobby or interest. Gary was a shining light in the lives of those who loved him, particularly his wife, Carolyn Frame Meeker, and daughter, Amanda Meeker, who will forever miss his unflappable presence. His passing also is mourned by his sisters, MaryAnn Meeker Snipes and Ruth Meeker Felix; nine nieces and nephews; son-in-law, Wil Davies; and ex-wife, Beverly Tobey, Amanda’s mother. Gary's remains, according to his wishes, will be composted and his molecules will become part of the cycle of life on his beloved Pleasant Ridge ranch. Gary inspired us with his kindness, patience, and indomitable good humor, and we are grateful for every single minute we got with him. A private ceremony will be held at a later date. Remembrances may be made to the East Cascades Oak Partnership via the Columbia Land Trust.