Obituary for Bertram Maupin Leecraft III
Our “One of a Kind” brother/Uncle/friend Bertram (Bert, Buddy, Beto) died peacefully on January 22, 2024 at the age of 76. His funeral will be held Friday, February 2, 2024 at 2:00 p.m. at O’Bannon Funeral Home, 210 S. Laurel, Luling, Texas. (obannonfh@sbcglobal.net). Buddy is survived by his sisters, Judy Leecraft, of Austin, Nancy Landwehr (Rick) of Austin, and his nieces and nephews Paige Newberry, Blair Newberry, Mark Newberry (Leslie), Joe Newberry (Kelley), Martha Preston (Matt), all of Austin, Leslie Weems (Andy) of Carrolton, and by his granddaughter Sarahid Lestargette of Tampico, Mexico. He is predeceased by his wife Hermelinda (Mely) Guevarra Lestargette, and his parents Jo Frances Seeger and Bertram Leecraft, Jr. He has been grateful for the loving support of Aldacinda (Cinda) Mendez and her son Eder Garcia of Luling.
Buddy was one of those special beings who captivated everyone’s attention. He was the funniest person you would ever meet. He usually left his family and friends laughing until everyone’s sides ached. He truly had a different way of looking at things. All things. He was a leader in AA wherever he went, having a total of 49 years of sobriety when he died. Evidently, he was following the AA rules, which were just about the only rules he ever followed, when the nurses announced that, during his last illness, he was spitting out his pain pills.
Buddy was born in Providence, Rhode Island, to a Navy pilot, Bertram Leecraft, Jr., and to a stay-at-home-mom, Jo Frances Seeger. Soon thereafter (14 months) he found himself with a baby sister, Judy (Judy Leecraft), then another sister Nancy (Nancy Landwehr) five years later. His Mom used to say that while the sisters were being rowdy, or at least one of them was being obstreperous, as children will be, Buddy would quietly “take it all in,” and contemplate life. While his sisters were eating pill bugs, Buddy was writing poetry in his mind.
Buddy had a different trajectory for his life than that of other, more regular folks, from the beginning, which radically differed from his parents’ plans for him. He never studied, that his family knew of, but his teachers adored him, fawned over him, blessed him, then set him outside the door or in the breezeway to contemplate life again and quit making the class laugh, because the class would not, and could not pay attention to World History or English or Math or whatever, as long as Buddy had a running commentary of the subject matter in the classroom.
Buddy’s formal education ranged from R.B. Fisher Elementary and Hamlin Jr. High in Corpus Christi, Texas; to Texas Military Academy in San Antonio, Texas; to Colbert High School in Oklahoma; to Friendswood High School in Friendswood, Texas. He couldn’t deal with the rigidity and the slow pace of high school. So in 1967, Buddy took the GED, and made the highest grade in the history of grades on that test. Then he joined the U.S. Navy. After his basic training, went was sent to the Navy’s elite Nuclear Power School in the Great Lakes region. He graduated second in his class. The other students all had college degrees and were years older. Buddy was just 19.
Buddy was then sent to Baltimore for more advanced training.
God had other plans for Buddy. After graduating From Nuclear Power School and moving to Baltimore in 1968, Buddy suffered a horrible motorcycle wreck. At the age of 21 a drunk driver hit his motorcycle head-on, on a bridge, going 60 mph. Buddy had to have his right leg amputated above the knee, and he lost most of the use of his right arm. Buddy was sent to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington for six months. Thereafter, he was sent to Lackland Air Force hospital to be close to family. He stayed at Lackland for over a year, longer than for most amputee patients, all because of the perplexing conundrum that the Air Force found itself in: Why was a Navy person in an Air Force hospital?
Because nobody knew what to do with that situation, he was discharged from the Navy and from Lackland in 1969. Altogether Buddy had been hospitalized for about 18 months, and he was unfortunately prescribed all kinds of medications during that time, which, of course, he got used to. Then, after returning to his family home, now in Alvin, Texas, after another series of unfortunate events, such as Buddy becoming overly familiar with substances, he found himself in need of the AA program.
After turning to alcohol and drugs for a time, Buddy got sober September 4, 1975. He was 28 years old. Most young followers of “The Program” recidivate, slip, or backslide, mostly since most young adults simply cannot envision themselves as alcoholics! But Buddy became an devotee for life.
AA became Buddy’s raison d’etre. He quickly learned to become a part of the Program, to follow the Program with all his soul, intellect, and sometimes with almost stubborn direction. His strict adherence to the teachings of the Program and his living the spirit of this wonderful program made folks believe they, too, could succeed, even if they were eighteen, or twenty eight, or thirty eight, or forty eight or older. Folks PAID ATTENTION to Buddy. Even hopeless addicts and alcoholics identified with him and looked up to him and were successful in their endeavors to stay sober. After Beto had about 30 years sober in the Program, he said that sometimes he thought he could take two days at a time instead of one day at a time. He told others that whenever he began thinking that he could take two days at a time, he knew he had to go to a meeting.
Buddy started speaking at small community meetings, then speaking at medium sized meetings, then at large venues. He was a fabulous speaker and presence. He had his audiences, large and small, laughing and learning about how much fun one could have without alcohol or drugs. He sponsored many who wanted to get sober. He said he never wanted to be a “guru” or try to “teach AA,” he just wanted to be friends with those he sponsored. And it worked.
Buddy went on to enjoy many additional endeavors, including his stated career choice, selling watermelons on the side of the road. (Not really, of course, he was just being his comic self.) But he did say that it got too hot out there on the highway, so he gave his truckload of watermelons to some other roadside entrepreneur. Of course, he graduated from the University of Houston with a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, then got within a few hours of getting his Master’s Degree in Neurobiology (physical addiction) as well. While the rest of us probably would have put in the effort to finish those few hours, after Buddy got his name on a published paper or two, he quit, stating that he was tired of rats. And he was referring to his professors.
After the University, Buddy became a certified counselor for a population near and dear to his heart: teenagers. He chose counseling for teens in Houston halfway houses. Some of his clients were convicted felons, or runaways, or homeless fifteen-year-olds. He understood them. And he loved them to health. He led by example and by love, and by humor, never judging or criticizing, helping his “kids” find a healthy way to sobriety through laughter and fun.
Buddy went to Mexico often. He loved the Mexican culture. He spoke fluent Spanish. He married a Mexican native from Tampico, Hermalinda Guaverra Lestargette, who was as wry and funny as Buddy, on December 24, 1992. They moved to El Ojital, San Luis Potosi, Mexico, a beautiful place full of full of mountains, gorgeous rivers, waterfalls, lush rain forest, and sugar cane farms. Buddy loved the steep mountain roads. They were beautiful, but when his sister Judy and their mother Jodie Leecraft visited El Ojital in 1995, he suggested that Judy take the family on a drive in Buddy’s truck. Soon Judy was following Buddy’s directions, leading them to mountainous roads. Huge Pemex trucks traveled on those roads going 70 miles per hour, honking behind her, trying to pass, and of course coming to within inches when racing towards them. Beto’s mother and Mely were seated in the front seat. Mely embraced Jodie and sang hymns, which was necessary to keep Buddy’s sweet Mom from passing out. Judy’s knuckles never returned to their normal color and remained blanched from then on. Buddy especially enjoyed riding in the bed of the truck on that trip, and evidently other trips, where he had placed his wooden rocking chair. Buddy calmly contemplated life while he rocked, smoked his pipe (tobacco only), listened to Mely sing, and waved at the Pemex trucks.
Buddy and his wife Mely moved back to the states in about 2000, visiting the sugar cane farm, El Ojital, in Agua Buena frequently. Buddy and Mely moved to Luling, Texas in 2005, traveling frequently to the farm and to Tampico, where they had a house. In 2019, Mely contracted pancreatic cancer, Mely died April 16, 2020. One of her friends, Aldacinda (Cinda) Mendez, took care of her every need until one day Buddy wrapped Mellie in a blanket, put her in his truck, and drove nonstop to El Ojital, so Mellie could die surrounded by her family. Mellie died fifteen minutes after her family arrived.
After Mely’s death, Cinda and her son Eder Garcia started caring for Buddy. Buddy decided he had not been a very virtuous person, which according to his family and friends, was not an actual fact, but he thought he was not going to go to heaven. Cinda knew a thing or two about that, so she told him stories, told him to read the Bible again, took him to her church. He started reading the Bible again, and he declared that he learned many, many new things after having previously read even the boring parts three times. The Bible is like that. He requested to be baptized. Church members adored him. He adored them too. He was wrapped in their love, just like Mellie’s blanket.
I am sure he is having a wonderful time in Heaven, gathering a crowd who just want to listen to him talk. His broken body is restored, and he is pain free. All the other folks in heaven or the angels or principalities or whomever, are sniggering and giggling along with God, who knew what He was doing when he created the Buddy/Bert/Beto.
Buddy died peacefully on January 22, 2024 after having only a day before been visited by his sisters, and surrounded by Cinda and Eder and church members who came to sing to him.
Buddy/Beto is with his loved ones in Heaven, and maybe some new friends, carrying on, making them laugh until they cry, learning that some things are more important than others and to pay attention to those, because you may not get another chance. But in the meantime, I am sure he is teaching them how to keep on keeping on, one day at a time, accepting what you cannot change, changing the things you can, and being humble enough to welcome the wisdom to know the difference.
Buddy was one of those special beings who captivated everyone’s attention. He was the funniest person you would ever meet. He usually left his family and friends laughing until everyone’s sides ached. He truly had a different way of looking at things. All things. He was a leader in AA wherever he went, having a total of 49 years of sobriety when he died. Evidently, he was following the AA rules, which were just about the only rules he ever followed, when the nurses announced that, during his last illness, he was spitting out his pain pills.
Buddy was born in Providence, Rhode Island, to a Navy pilot, Bertram Leecraft, Jr., and to a stay-at-home-mom, Jo Frances Seeger. Soon thereafter (14 months) he found himself with a baby sister, Judy (Judy Leecraft), then another sister Nancy (Nancy Landwehr) five years later. His Mom used to say that while the sisters were being rowdy, or at least one of them was being obstreperous, as children will be, Buddy would quietly “take it all in,” and contemplate life. While his sisters were eating pill bugs, Buddy was writing poetry in his mind.
Buddy had a different trajectory for his life than that of other, more regular folks, from the beginning, which radically differed from his parents’ plans for him. He never studied, that his family knew of, but his teachers adored him, fawned over him, blessed him, then set him outside the door or in the breezeway to contemplate life again and quit making the class laugh, because the class would not, and could not pay attention to World History or English or Math or whatever, as long as Buddy had a running commentary of the subject matter in the classroom.
Buddy’s formal education ranged from R.B. Fisher Elementary and Hamlin Jr. High in Corpus Christi, Texas; to Texas Military Academy in San Antonio, Texas; to Colbert High School in Oklahoma; to Friendswood High School in Friendswood, Texas. He couldn’t deal with the rigidity and the slow pace of high school. So in 1967, Buddy took the GED, and made the highest grade in the history of grades on that test. Then he joined the U.S. Navy. After his basic training, went was sent to the Navy’s elite Nuclear Power School in the Great Lakes region. He graduated second in his class. The other students all had college degrees and were years older. Buddy was just 19.
Buddy was then sent to Baltimore for more advanced training.
God had other plans for Buddy. After graduating From Nuclear Power School and moving to Baltimore in 1968, Buddy suffered a horrible motorcycle wreck. At the age of 21 a drunk driver hit his motorcycle head-on, on a bridge, going 60 mph. Buddy had to have his right leg amputated above the knee, and he lost most of the use of his right arm. Buddy was sent to Walter Reed Hospital in Washington for six months. Thereafter, he was sent to Lackland Air Force hospital to be close to family. He stayed at Lackland for over a year, longer than for most amputee patients, all because of the perplexing conundrum that the Air Force found itself in: Why was a Navy person in an Air Force hospital?
Because nobody knew what to do with that situation, he was discharged from the Navy and from Lackland in 1969. Altogether Buddy had been hospitalized for about 18 months, and he was unfortunately prescribed all kinds of medications during that time, which, of course, he got used to. Then, after returning to his family home, now in Alvin, Texas, after another series of unfortunate events, such as Buddy becoming overly familiar with substances, he found himself in need of the AA program.
After turning to alcohol and drugs for a time, Buddy got sober September 4, 1975. He was 28 years old. Most young followers of “The Program” recidivate, slip, or backslide, mostly since most young adults simply cannot envision themselves as alcoholics! But Buddy became an devotee for life.
AA became Buddy’s raison d’etre. He quickly learned to become a part of the Program, to follow the Program with all his soul, intellect, and sometimes with almost stubborn direction. His strict adherence to the teachings of the Program and his living the spirit of this wonderful program made folks believe they, too, could succeed, even if they were eighteen, or twenty eight, or thirty eight, or forty eight or older. Folks PAID ATTENTION to Buddy. Even hopeless addicts and alcoholics identified with him and looked up to him and were successful in their endeavors to stay sober. After Beto had about 30 years sober in the Program, he said that sometimes he thought he could take two days at a time instead of one day at a time. He told others that whenever he began thinking that he could take two days at a time, he knew he had to go to a meeting.
Buddy started speaking at small community meetings, then speaking at medium sized meetings, then at large venues. He was a fabulous speaker and presence. He had his audiences, large and small, laughing and learning about how much fun one could have without alcohol or drugs. He sponsored many who wanted to get sober. He said he never wanted to be a “guru” or try to “teach AA,” he just wanted to be friends with those he sponsored. And it worked.
Buddy went on to enjoy many additional endeavors, including his stated career choice, selling watermelons on the side of the road. (Not really, of course, he was just being his comic self.) But he did say that it got too hot out there on the highway, so he gave his truckload of watermelons to some other roadside entrepreneur. Of course, he graduated from the University of Houston with a Bachelor’s Degree in Psychology, then got within a few hours of getting his Master’s Degree in Neurobiology (physical addiction) as well. While the rest of us probably would have put in the effort to finish those few hours, after Buddy got his name on a published paper or two, he quit, stating that he was tired of rats. And he was referring to his professors.
After the University, Buddy became a certified counselor for a population near and dear to his heart: teenagers. He chose counseling for teens in Houston halfway houses. Some of his clients were convicted felons, or runaways, or homeless fifteen-year-olds. He understood them. And he loved them to health. He led by example and by love, and by humor, never judging or criticizing, helping his “kids” find a healthy way to sobriety through laughter and fun.
Buddy went to Mexico often. He loved the Mexican culture. He spoke fluent Spanish. He married a Mexican native from Tampico, Hermalinda Guaverra Lestargette, who was as wry and funny as Buddy, on December 24, 1992. They moved to El Ojital, San Luis Potosi, Mexico, a beautiful place full of full of mountains, gorgeous rivers, waterfalls, lush rain forest, and sugar cane farms. Buddy loved the steep mountain roads. They were beautiful, but when his sister Judy and their mother Jodie Leecraft visited El Ojital in 1995, he suggested that Judy take the family on a drive in Buddy’s truck. Soon Judy was following Buddy’s directions, leading them to mountainous roads. Huge Pemex trucks traveled on those roads going 70 miles per hour, honking behind her, trying to pass, and of course coming to within inches when racing towards them. Beto’s mother and Mely were seated in the front seat. Mely embraced Jodie and sang hymns, which was necessary to keep Buddy’s sweet Mom from passing out. Judy’s knuckles never returned to their normal color and remained blanched from then on. Buddy especially enjoyed riding in the bed of the truck on that trip, and evidently other trips, where he had placed his wooden rocking chair. Buddy calmly contemplated life while he rocked, smoked his pipe (tobacco only), listened to Mely sing, and waved at the Pemex trucks.
Buddy and his wife Mely moved back to the states in about 2000, visiting the sugar cane farm, El Ojital, in Agua Buena frequently. Buddy and Mely moved to Luling, Texas in 2005, traveling frequently to the farm and to Tampico, where they had a house. In 2019, Mely contracted pancreatic cancer, Mely died April 16, 2020. One of her friends, Aldacinda (Cinda) Mendez, took care of her every need until one day Buddy wrapped Mellie in a blanket, put her in his truck, and drove nonstop to El Ojital, so Mellie could die surrounded by her family. Mellie died fifteen minutes after her family arrived.
After Mely’s death, Cinda and her son Eder Garcia started caring for Buddy. Buddy decided he had not been a very virtuous person, which according to his family and friends, was not an actual fact, but he thought he was not going to go to heaven. Cinda knew a thing or two about that, so she told him stories, told him to read the Bible again, took him to her church. He started reading the Bible again, and he declared that he learned many, many new things after having previously read even the boring parts three times. The Bible is like that. He requested to be baptized. Church members adored him. He adored them too. He was wrapped in their love, just like Mellie’s blanket.
I am sure he is having a wonderful time in Heaven, gathering a crowd who just want to listen to him talk. His broken body is restored, and he is pain free. All the other folks in heaven or the angels or principalities or whomever, are sniggering and giggling along with God, who knew what He was doing when he created the Buddy/Bert/Beto.
Buddy died peacefully on January 22, 2024 after having only a day before been visited by his sisters, and surrounded by Cinda and Eder and church members who came to sing to him.
Buddy/Beto is with his loved ones in Heaven, and maybe some new friends, carrying on, making them laugh until they cry, learning that some things are more important than others and to pay attention to those, because you may not get another chance. But in the meantime, I am sure he is teaching them how to keep on keeping on, one day at a time, accepting what you cannot change, changing the things you can, and being humble enough to welcome the wisdom to know the difference.