09/27/2026
Grab your ale 8, and just sit on down cause this one is a tough one.
At 2:30 in the morning on September 27th, 2026, Edgar “Pappy” Williams, went to be with the lord.
To many people, he was Ed, Edgar, Uncle ed, but to us he was Pappy. And there’s something so special about that name, because being Pappy wasn’t just a title he carried—it was a role he filled with his whole heart.
They represent generations of hard work, family, and memories. They represent the things Pappy spent his life building and passing down—not just crops and a farm, but traditions and values that will continue long after him.
And, of course, we can’t talk about Pappy without mentioning some of the little things that made him him.
Give that man a bottled Ale 8 and a bologna sandwich, and he was pretty content. But only 1 piece of bread, and only 1 slice of bologna. Don’t mess it up either.
And no matter what you were telling him, no matter how long you carried on about something, you could almost always count on the same response:
“Okayyyyy.”
That “okayyyyy” could mean just about anything. It could mean he agreed. It could mean he didn’t agree at all. It could mean he had heard enough. But somehow, you always knew exactly what he meant.
Those are the things we’re going to miss—the little things that maybe didn’t seem important at the time, but that become the memories we hold onto forever.
Pappy was an amazing father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. He loved his family, and his family loved him deeply. His legacy isn’t only in the farm he worked or the things he grew. It’s in the people he raised, the grandchildren he loved, the great-grandchildren who got to call him Pappy, and in all of us who were lucky enough to know him.
We will miss seeing him on the farm. We will miss his stories, his “okayyyyy,” his quiet way of being there, and all the ordinary moments that we never realized would one day become some of our most precious memories.
But I think the best way we can honor Pappy is to keep those things going.
Keep the farm going. Keep the traditions alive. Grow the strawberries. Plant the corn. Make the sorghum. Share a bologna sandwich. Crack open an Ale 8. And every now and then, when someone is carrying on about something, give them a long, drawn-out…
“Okayyyyy.”
Because Pappy may not be here with us in the way we wish he could be, but the things he built, the people he loved, and the memories he gave us will remain.
We love you, Pappy.