Our earliest memory of Joe was his returning from the war in Vietnam. He was without the trademark beard then. I don’t know which of his nephews or nieces started it but we couldn’t say his name, because we were so young, so we all called him Unkie Doe. Over the next 40 years or so we were all so lucky to have him in our lives and he became one of the people we admire the most. Keith and I were luckier than many nephews to have known their uncle in different circumstances. We worked with Joe in a job that required us to live together on the road. That meant we worked hard with Joe, but we also played hard too.

Joe was a Vietnam veteran and while I can’t begin to know what that was like, I know it was one of the proudest moments of my life being there with him the first time he visited the National Vietnam Memorial in Washington D.C. where I shared the memories of his experiences that were so hard for him to relive. He never made a big deal of the war but he remembered it and his friends that he’d lost there for his whole life. That was my Unkie Doe.

Joe didn't do things the easy way. He did them the right way. When we worked together I always wanted to set up the equipment the quicker, easier, sufficient way. But Joe always set it up the more thorough, harder, safer way. We never had an equipment failure when Joe set up. That was my Unkie Doe.

And while there is no easy way to succumb to the inevitability of cancer, Joe fought it with a determination that few can muster. The average life expectancy for a person diagnosed with Mesothelioma is in the range of 9 months on what was the standard of care treatment. Joe fought through four lines of debilitating chemotherapy along with surgery and radiation treatment and fought the disease for almost three times as long as the average person. I was talking with one of the leading authorities on Mesothelioma at a time when Joe was approaching two years with the disease. I asked the doctor what he would recommend as further treatment for a man who'd had the disease that long and had gone through treatments Joe had. He told me that he could really only answer me hypothetically because he didn't think anyone could actually get that far. If the disease hadn’t already won out then surely the person’s will had given out. Joe kept fighting well past that. When seeing him I often thought that, if it wasn't for the oxygen tank, I'd never have known he was ill. That was my Unkie Doe.

He loved the mountains and outdoors and I’ll always cherish the times I spent with him in his element. Whether we were bicycling the Mineral Trail, hiking the trails in Lake County, cross-country skiing on Mt. Massive, jeeping in Iowa Gulch, riding on his sailboat at Dillon, or hanging out at the family pig roast, Joe was always the one leading the way, having fun and teaching us about the mountains that he loved. This was my Unkie Doe.

He could have taken the easy way when the mine closed down here in Leadville. He could have moved away and found a job elsewhere like so many others did. But Joe knew what he wanted out of life and what he loved and those things were in Leadville. He loved the community of Leadville. Joe and Mary Louise made continuous, tangible contributions to the town they loved. There were the yearly house tours, the work on the big 100-mile races, and Joe’s work to help provide water for his neighbors. He wanted his kids to have the experience of growing up in a smaller place. Leadville is where Mary Louise, the love of his life, was. And now, for the first time in 133 years, there will no longer be a direct descendent of Michael Dwyer living in Leadville.

Joe was not much of a "joiner" though he did spend many hours supporting a few organizations. One of the most important organizations he devoted much time to was the Elks. Joe enjoyed the camaraderie and friendships he developed working with the people. From the picnics, charity events, Boom Days to the Lodge Meetings, he lived their motto of Elks Care and Elks Share. That was my Unkie Doe.

Butch was a fun-loving curly headed kid whose patience and even temperament were renowned. He rarely lost his temper and was ready to help most anyone. His younger sisters, Margie and Kathy were frequently recipients of his patient demeanor. Although we find it hard to believe coming from our sibling backgrounds, Margie and Joe both swore that they never fought and were always best friends. He and Denny would eagerly open science projects Joe sent away for to test masterful experiments while patiently sharing the findings. Kathy may have been the recipient of the utmost in patience and kind temperament Joe ever mustered when she crashed his prized Charger into a snow bank while Joe was teaching her drive. After the crash he simply backed out the car and the lesson continued. That was my Unkie Doe.

If we are what we beget, then the reflection of Joe lives on in his family. He helped to raise two simply outstanding children, Correen and Michael. They had the type of relationship that most families could only dream of. Joe was always not just interested in their lives, but was an active participant. And, oh how he adored his grandsons. Whenever we were away with Joe for work, one of the major orders of business of the trip was finding something to take home to the boys. We saw endless pictures and heard countless stories of their exploits. He was always thinking of them. In Mary Louise he had found the love of his life while still very young. Together they made an outstanding couple for 35 years of marriage. His entire family is the most prized relationship. One of the values he shared with us and others was -- Take Care of Your Family and Make Their Life Better Than Yours. That was my Unkie Doe.

While we all have different memories and experiences of and with Joe we all loved him and will miss him very much. Keep those memories and experiences because they are your Unkie Doe.

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