James Robert Ingram III

It is with profound sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved husband, father, brother, motorcycle enthusiast, and bagpiper James Robert Ingram III, who went to be with our Lord and Savior on January 27th, 2026.

Born on February 26, 1959, in Dallas, Texas, James was the son of Margaret and James Ingram Jr. He was a man of quiet faith, kindness, and generosity, known for his strong spirit, steady presence, and deep devotion to those he loved. He also had a creative spirit, expressed through his love of music and work in art and graphic design.

While attending the University of Oklahoma for a Bachelor's degree in Art, James met Denise Fillmore, the woman who would become his wife and lifelong partner. Their marriage became the steady center of his life and he expressed that she was the best thing that ever happened to him. James spoke often of his love for her, once writing, "She has made my life worth living and was my rock in some very hard and low places."

Together, James and Denise raised two children, welcoming their daughter, Sydney and son Ian. Soon after the kids arrived, the family traded Dallas for small-town life, moving to a small house in the middle of a cow pasture in Leonard, Texas. James once read a book on self-sufficiency farming written for England's climate, and many happy and funny memories were made as he attempted to adapt its teachings to the Texas heat (spoiler alert: the family was not self-sufficient via farming efforts).

As the family settled into rural life, James temporarily set aside his lifelong love of motorcycles and focused on providing for his family. He made personal sacrifices so Denise could homeschool their children and raise them in a loving, faith-based environment. To support them, James commuted more than an hour each way to Dallas, often driving old cars without air conditioning that were affectionately known as his "Frankenstein cars," because through sheer mechanical ingenuity, he refused to let them die. He had grease on his shirt and sweat on his back, but he never wavered in his dedication to those he loved.

James often told his children that it didn't matter what they chose to do in life; what mattered most to him was that they became productive members of society and pursued the things they loved. He taught them to always march to the beat of their own drummer - a philosophy he followed both figuratively and, to the chagrin of his bandmates, literally.

James was his children's number one supporter and spoke often of the pride he felt in both of them. Neither Syd nor Ian was ever "too cool" for their dad, and they sought out time with him whenever possible - joining him in his cover bands, at the shooting range, and on trips to pick up dubious project bikes in boxes. James once wrote, "My kids are great and turned out to be people I actually like to be around."

He was not just "Dad," but also 'Friend'.

James was a gentle giant who wore his heart on his sleeve. He was unafraid to show tenderness, humor, or sincerity, and he lived openly and honestly in a way that made others feel at ease. His daughter fondly remembers him riding his yellow VFR to group motorcycle events with a bright pink, cartoon-y stuffed bear fastened to the saddlebag. When she asked him about the bear, James explained that it was the "outward expression of his inward soul." James was outgoing and caring to the people around him, and he found a million ways to say "I love you" without ever needing to use the words themselves.

As the kids grew up, James slowly added motorcycles back into everyday life. While he admired new bikes on showroom floors, he found meaning in the challenge of rebuilding them from top to bottom: diagnosing what was wrong, piecing them back together, and setting out on a maiden voyage that sometimes ended in another breakdown and a fresh start. Through these misadventures, James connected easily with others, building camaraderie through shared stories, laughter, and the simple love of people.

In later years, when James rode less often, he confided to his daughter that what he missed was not necessarily the motorcycle itself, but the opportunity to make new stories. He soon found that same sense of purpose and connection through the bagpipes, becoming part of Shields of Honor Pipes and Drums, where he continued to create meaningful moments and funny stories through music and service.

Though James left us far sooner than we were ready to say goodbye, he leaves behind a legacy of kindness, faith, friendship, and a family who will forever pick up stray nails left behind in parking lots ("remember kids, the tire you save may be your own"). In both big and small ways, his love, humor, and lessons live on in those who knew him best.

James is survived by his loving wife of 41 wonderful years, Denise Ingram. His Daughter, Syd Ingram Holley and her husband, Aaron Holley.
His Son, Ian Ingram and his partner, Di Hopkins. His Sister, Barbara Neidinger and her husband, Richard Neidinger. His Nephew, Dana Neidmann and his partner, Toby Pace.

James touched many lives and was likely welcomed home by a gathering far too large to ever fully account for, but preceding him was Leroy, his much beloved Friend and Mentor. His parents J.R. Ingram, Jr and Margaret Crabtree Ingram. Paternal grandparents James R Ingram, Sr and Margaret Clark Ingram. Maternal grandparents Alfred Edward Crabtree and Flora Margaret Anderson Crabtree.