I'm back at work Monday and I wanted to thank all of you for your prayers, your thoughts and your special wishes in the wake of the passing of my father, Bill Buckley. I remain overwhelmed.
We had a wonderful memorial service Saturday in Twentynine Palms at the church he helped to build as a trustee (Desert Congregational Church) that was attended by friends and family and just a few of the people dad touched over a lifetime of service to his nation and his community. We laughed and we cried and we celebrated a humble man who looked for the good in people, who led by example, who provided for and loved his family.
Dad was born the son of a coal miner (and local union president) who was determined not to work in the mines of West Virginia. He had eight brothers and sisters and 16 nephews and nieces. He was a strong man with a gentle soul. He joined the Navy and got to see the world. He became a hospital corpsman whose mission over 30 years was to provide the best medical care possible for sailors and Marines. He retired as Command Master Chief at the Navy hospital in Twentynine Palms. He then worked for a few years running the golf course at the Marine Corps base before retiring for good in 1991. My dad was a good man and we were close. I will miss him tremendously. 
I wanted to share a couple of stories emailed to me during the past week that give you a brief glimpse into the man who was my father. The first comes from a retired rear admiral in the Navy and family friend.
I remember the first time I met the Master Chief...it was the first month I was at the old Branch Hospital in 29 Palms. I was a "geographic bachelor" at that time and as I prepared to go home and pick up my wife and our daughter to return to the Stumps, I went to your dad and asked “Master Chief, what do I do with this Leave Request?" He said, and I can hear him now, "I can handle that for you, Lieutenant... let me see it". He took the form and looked it over and said "No problem"... he took a rubber stamp out of his drawer, inked it up from a red ink pad and stamped the top sheet, then he passed it back to me. Well, needless to say, this young Lieutenant was a bit flummoxed when I read "Bull-*%@$" in big red letters about an inch high.
Well, that was the start of a relationship that I can only say was one of the most important in my life. Master Chief (please excuse me for the title... but that is what he always was, and still is, to me) took me, a green Lieutenant, under his wing and helped me navigate the "rocks and shoals" of the early days of my Naval career. And a great mentor he was! His sage advice and down home manner of giving it was just what this Country Boy needed. After all these many years have passed, I still find myself thinking of the days at 29 Palms and what a great command it was and how fortunate I was to have met and served with leaders like your father. Please always remember that your father was influential in the development of countless young men and women in the Navy. His efforts, while not always noted, have helped to make our Navy what it is today and of what it will be in the future. Because of him, every Sailor who knew him took some of Master Chief’s wisdom, personality and sense of humor with them as they moved on to another command. And they passed all those attributes on to others currently serving and they will pass them on to those yet to serve.
And this email came from at KTLA viewer.
I work at Home Depot in Yucca Valley and Bill Buckley would come in sometimes just to wander around and make me laugh. He was ornery but a wonderful man. Always had a joke or a story to tell. Would ask me if I watched channel 5 at 9am, which I did. He was very proud of his boy. I will miss seeing him come into the store, will miss his jokes. But man will God be laughing at lot more with him around!!
I'm sharing these stories and a few thoughts on my dad in this blog post because I've learned it's difficult at times for me to talk about my dad without being overcome with emotion. It creeps up without warning. I'd love to spend time on the air telling you more about my dad but I just can't right now. It's too close. I don't want to grieve in public and certainly not when I'm bringing you the news. I hope you'll understand. So as I return to the anchor desk this week, I'm going to focus on the work and move forward. I know that as I do, I'll hear my dad's kind, comforting voice guiding me every step of the way.
