Bentley Parrish

Have you heard the one about the old guy and his monkey? If you haven't, you'll have to wait until you see Charles Bentley Parrish, who is now driving a speed boat on the most beautiful lake you have ever laid eyes on. That lake is in heaven.

Bentley left us on Wednesday, September 17, 2025 after valiantly battling pancreatic cancer and is scratching the ears of his beloved dogs Puppy, Buford and Muddy.

This is not an ordinary obituary, because Charles Bentley Parrish was not an ordinary man. At the family lake house on Kentucky Lake, the deck is lined with silly signs, but his favorite one is a Hunter S. Thompson quote: "Life should not be a journey to the grave… but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming, Wow! What a ride!"

And what a ride it was.

Bentley came into the world on March 5, 1955 in Springfield, Tennessee. By eleven, he was pedaling a paper route against his parents' wishes, hurling newspapers into the dark before dawn in rain, snow, and the brutal heat of Robertson County summers. By high school, he was rolling in the Gray Ghost, a legendary van outfitted with shag carpet, paneled walls, and bean bag chairs. It was more than a vehicle. It was a vibe.

He was an Eagle Scout, and a master of turning ordinary moments into memories. When his little sister Adele was born, he used her shamelessly as a chick magnet, carting her to the Branding Iron to get attention from the girls. At the University of Tennessee, he majored in Sigma Nu fraternity and somehow graduated with only one year of shenanigans.

Let's talk about some of his most interesting vehicles: A Triumph Spitfire that ended up under an 18-wheeler. (Spoiler Alert: He survived.) A Ford Mustang Fastback. A convertible MG. A Migi with a license plate that said BTMSUP (get it?). And when he became a responsible adult came the impressive trucks that inevitably caused speeding tickets. He could spin the best story to get out of most of them.

His happiest place was the lake. He had the patience of a saint when it came to teaching kids, grandkids, nieces, nephews, and complete strangers how to ski. If you climbed into his tube behind the boat, you had two choices. Hold on buttercup, and prepare to be flipped. Or admit you were timid and he would give you the smoothest ride of your life.

He was a father who taught his boys, Crockett and Chaz to throw a baseball and drive a stick shift via the passenger seat by nothing more than the sound of the engine. He was the kind of man who could turn a Boy Scout scavenger hunt into a victory by tucking the golden arrow in his pocket and slapping it on the table at the end with an evil grin.

He was a husband who spoiled Tammy shamelessly. Jewelry, cowboy boots, pink streaks in her hair, red nails, and souvenirs from every trip they took. Behind every trinket on their wall is a memory and a laugh. He watched a million cooking shows with her, and whether he loved the recipes or not, he always loved her.

Bentley was a man who showed up. He showed up when you moved, uninvited, with boxes, tape, and Tetris-level skills for packing a moving van. He showed up at Bentley-Gwin reunions, never missing a single one. He was the loudest voice during the Bentley medley. If you haven't witnessed this, it's a questionable display of sight and sound. He showed up with a phone that was always on, always answered. He showed up in Florida, in Alabama, in Memphis, in any place his people needed him, without judgement, without questioning or anger.

He was also the family prankster. Ask about the toothpaste-filled Oreos he proudly served on a plate. Ask about the sardine dip that people loved against their will. Ask about his top-secret Bloody Mary mix. He never let a conversation end without a joke, and he never let a room stay quiet when it could be filled with laughter.

He was not flawless, and we would not dishonor him by pretending otherwise. The toupee season was rough. The day he forgot the plug and sank the boat was unforgettable. The engine went into the oven, yes the oven, to be baked dry.

His professional life has also been a diverse ride, beginning in sales of hydraulics and commercial AC units (he sold the AC units to Opry Mills), then coming into family businesses of Bentley's 5 & 10 cent stores, TCBY Yogurt stores, two liquor stores, and ending as an auctioneer.

Those who love him have described him with one word: gregarious, family, loyalty, stable, strong, stern, intimidating, reliable, confidant, dependable and wise. But the truest thing about him is this: Bentley lived a life that reflected the God who gave it to him. He was not perfect, but he was present. He gave his time, his laughter, his strength, and his love without holding back. He leaves behind a family who grieves deeply but also knows this is not the end of his story. Because of Christ, he has traded this lake for a greater one, and the boat ride has only just begun.

Bentley is now reunited with his father, Charles Foster Parrish, his brother-in-law, Tony Neville Dorris, his mother-in-law Joyce Marie (Allbert) Graves, and the grandparents who helped shape his story, Walter and Mary Bentley and William and Elizabeth Parrish.

Still here to carry on his laughter and legacy are the people who mattered most. His wife, Tammy Jean (Graves) Parrish, the love of his life. His mother, Mary Ann (Bentley) Greif, who first handed him a stubborn streak and a sense of loyalty that never wavered. His sons, Alexander Crockett Parrish and wife Chessica, and Charles Bentley Parrish Jr., who knew both the stern coach and the soft-hearted dad. His sisters, Janet Lynn (Parrish) Hendon and husband Keith, and Mary Lealan Adele (Parrish) Watts and husband Cody, who knew better than anyone how his loyalty and mischief walked hand in hand.

The granddaughters, Sophia Eva-Marie, Aubree Claire, and Harper Camille, were his greatest delight and gave him one more reason to stay young at heart. Around them is a wide circle of nieces, nephews, and "greats" who will always have stories of Uncle Bentley showing up when it mattered most.

Bentley's story is carried forward not only by his own family, but also by Tammy's father, sisters, and brother, who welcomed him wholeheartedly and shared in both the joy and the trials of this journey.

Celebration of life services will be conducted Monday September 22nd at 3:00 p.m. in the Oakhurst Chapel of the Robertson County Funeral Home. The family will receive friends from 1:00 p.m. until 3:00 p.m. on Monday at the funeral home. Honorary pallbearers will be his fellow classmates from Springfield High School Class of 1974.

If so desired, memorial contributions may be made to the Youth department of Springfield Baptist Church and may be sent c/o the Robertson County Funeral Home.