Gene Franklin Gaines

1941 - 2025

Sometimes the darkest news is illuminated by a larger glow. Gene Gaines died abruptly on May 8, after a devastating car crash in Bozeman but at the top of his game. He had been delivering Meals-on-Wheels, on behalf of Bozeman Sunrise Rotary, on the morning of May 6, two days earlier. He was 84, but his generous spirit and his love of life and community were spry and unslaked, and he filled his calendar in retirement with ways to give. His game, in the largest sense, was being an exemplary human: kind, wise, judicious, humorous, family-loving, friend-making, always interested in what the other person would say, liberal-spirited, supportive. He is survived by, among others, a twin sister and a wife and two daughters and two granddaughters, all of whom adored him. He knew a lot of people. He is mourned by Bozeman and beyond.

Born Eugene Franklin Gaines, Jr., in Joplin, Missouri, on January 2, 1941, Gene entered the world just twenty minutes before his beloved twin sister, Nancy. Growing up, he balanced a passion for golf, honed on the Joplin High team, with the youthful exuberance of a "gang" of hotrod enthusiasts, the Cam-Twisters. A serious car accident in his late teens kept him in the hospital for months and left him with chronic back pain. Despite this, he loved to drive throughout his life, especially long trips taken as a lark or a mission with one family member or another. But his life was bookended by automotive catastrophes.

After graduating from the University of Kansas and earning an MBA, Gene built a successful career in banking and financial services, beginning as a bank loan officer in Dallas. It was there that he married Patti Axelson in 1965, and together they welcomed their daughters, Betsy and Katie. The family moved to Cincinnati in 1971, Gene taking a new job with First National Bank. In Cincinnati, Gene's second career blossomed and grew, the career of his heart: being a father.

Childhood memories testify that Gene was an unbridled goofball when it came to keeping his girls entertained, reassured, or even when a touch of discipline was needed. He transformed himself into a cast of unforgettable characters for their amusement--part Sesame Street, part Samuel Beckett. There was the heroic Vomit Man, who bravely swept in to clean up dog barf; the mysterious child-eating Heado, drawn on steamed mirrors; and countless imaginary sisters, all named Erella, who had died because they'd neglected their chores.

A health scare in 1974, requiring open-heart surgery, became a turning point. Needing a healthier lifestyle, he quit smoking and started running. He even shared this passion with the elder daughter, Betsy, enlisting her as his early morning running partner. Later, he would take vast pride in both his daughters' accomplishments, Betsy's work in conservation and Katie's in healthcare. Gene loved all his daughters' friends and maintained warm relations with them, from their high school and college years and within the Bozeman community.

He was always out and about on civic missions, functioning generously behind the scenes. He served as treasurer for the rotary; treasurer for Iho Pomeroy's city commission candidacy; and spent countless hours over ten years serving his neighborhood, Riverside, in their challenge of solving a waste-treatment crisis and being annexed to the city. He had warm mutual relations with commissioners Cyndy Andrus, Chris Mehl, Terry Cunningham, and Joey Morrison. He was ever ready to accept the necessary job that no one else wanted to do.

Later in life, Gene found love again, marrying Catherine Fields in 2002. Their wedding in rural Virginia was a joyous occasion, followed by the weddings of both his daughters, and then soon the arrival of cherished granddaughters, Mae and Lily. Gene embraced Catherine's large Baltimore family, becoming a beloved figure known for his infectious joy in dancing. He and Catherine lost no chances at wedding receptions or other events to jitterbug to rock n roll or do 'forties swoops and dips to big band music. After their move to Minneapolis, they had an active urban life filled with long walks, bicycling, and a shared appreciation for museums, great restaurants, and their practice at the Minnesota Zen Center.

In 2010, wanting to be closer to his daughters and granddaughters, Gene and Catherine moved to Bozeman. He became the anchor of the family, hosting weekly Sunday dinners and connecting with both daughters for daily phone calls filled with warmth and updates. He also embraced Catherine's extended family, forging strong bonds with her siblings. The granddaughters were his special focus. He and Catherine would host the little girls for tea parties at their house, for which Gene would dress in a tuxedo, and the four of them would sit at a small table, drinking tea and discussing the world.

Generally even-tempered, Gene's rare moments of vented frustration were reserved for small omissions to a recipe when he cooked, or a wayward golf shot, eliciting a blurted "God dammit!" Yet his love for both activities endured. He found camaraderie and joy in his regular rounds with "the Gaines Groups" at Cottonwood Hills and his annual fishing and golf trip to converge with old Joplin friends.

One of his most characteristic phrases, reflecting his all-encompassing enjoyment of life, was the very simple "Oh, goody." Betsy would tell him by phone that she would see him for dinner in an hour. "Oh, goody," he would say. Katie would mention that one of the granddaughters had a dance recital and he was invited. "Oh, goody."

Immediately after the crash, he was in extremis for a couple of hours on the afternoon of May 6. Barely conscious, barely alive, tubes and monitors everywhere. He was to be life-flighted toward expert orthopedic surgeons at the Billings Clinic, on the chance that there might be hope. Finally the team of air medics appeared. The Bozeman-Livingston pass was clogged with a low ceiling of clouds, they reported, so the helicopter couldn't fly. Mr. Gaines would be transferred by ambulance to the airport, then by small fixed-wing plane to Billings. Betsy whispered gently in his ear that the crew had arrived to move him. "Oh, goody," he said.

This was a man.

In lieu of flowers, please consider a gift to International Rotary, HAVEN, or Meals on Wheels. A Celebration of Life will be held at the Emerson Cultural Center on July 12, at 2pm.