While Alfred was his given name, I can't think of many people who actually called him that. Gordon, Dad, Grandpa, Pops, Donk - those are the names that echoed throughout his life, each one representing a different piece of the man he was and the lives he touched.

Gordon Prentiss was born on April 10, 1931, and raised in Sonora, California, where he grew up with his 4 brothers and one sister and his parents, Joseph and Violet. Sonora was home, and Gordon became a familiar face in the community. It seemed everyone knew him, and even years later, people would still ask about him and remember him fondly.

As a young man, after graduating from high school in only three years, Gordon served in the United States Army, beginning a life defined by hard work, dedication, and doing things the right way. He went on to become an exceptionally talented welder - the kind of welder you could ask for when you needed anything done right. He took pride in his work and understood something that never seemed to leave him: if you were going to do something, you did it right.

Gordon was also a man of his word, someone who truly understood the meaning of hard work, and the most honest man many of us will ever have the privilege of knowing. He stood his ground, spoke plainly, and was never one to tolerate foolishness. He didn't need many words to make his position known, and you could always count on him to tell you exactly what he thought.

It was in Sonora that Gordon met Mo, the love of his life and the mother of his son, Matthew. After being married on May 24th in 1975, they built a life and a family. When Mo went to be with the Lord [21 years ago], Gordon remained in Oregon, beginning the next chapter of his life.

Gordon eventually moved in with his son, Matthew, his daughter-in-law, Tammy, and their three children, Cori, Kayle, and Lane. He spent more than 10 years living alongside with his family, becoming not only a father and grandfather, but an everyday part of the lives of the people who loved him most.

For his grandchildren, Pops was a teacher in ways he probably never realized. He taught us when it was okay to joke around and when it was time to be serious. He taught us the value of hard work, the importance of keeping your word, and that honesty was never something to compromise. He had a way of saying exactly what he thought, whether you were ready to hear it or not - and somehow, you usually knew he was right.

The man was as stubborn as they come. But after many years of wearing him down, he finally freely confessed, "Love you back," every time you told him you loved him. And for those who knew Pops, those three little words meant everything.

He was a man of few words, many stories, and a personality that left little doubt about where he stood. If you gave him enough time, you were going to hear a story. Some were from long ago, some were lessons disguised as stories, and some were simply Pops being Pops. He didn't need to say much to make an impression. Somehow, he managed to leave a little piece of himself with nearly everyone he encountered.

On September 24, 2026, Pops left this earth while being held by those who treasured him most. He left behind stories, lessons, laughter, stubbornness, honesty, hard-earned wisdom, and countless little pieces of himself in the people he had loved in his 95 years.

Some knew him as Gordon. Some knew him as Dad. Others knew him as Grandpa or Pops. But whatever name you called him, you knew exactly who you were talking about.

Gordon will be deeply missed by his son, Matthew; his daughter-in-law, Tammy; his grandchildren, Cori, Kayle, and Lane; his brother, John Prentiss and wife Susan; nephew Tim Keddy and wife Maggie; niece Ruth Dillareal; family members, and the many friends, and members of the communities he touched throughout his life.

Though we wish we had more time, we are grateful for the years we were given with him, for everything he taught us, for every story he told, and for every "Love you back" we were lucky enough to hear.

And while our hearts hurt knowing we have to say see you later, we can't help but smile imagining you on the other side - two-stepping with Nana, catching up with family, and looking down on all of us telling us to, "Quit your fussing over me."

Rest easy, Pops. We love you, we will carry a piece of you with us always, and we'll see you soon.

You will always be the best dang Pops we could ever ask for. Love you back, forever and always.