Larry Flatt

Larry Gene Flatt, born January 16, 1948, purportedly fighting with his mother, passed January 17, 2025. He was preceded in death by his parents Stanley and Elaine (Taylor) Flatt. His brother, Rick (Sharron) Flatt, survives him. But life is not about the beginning, nor the end - it's about the dash. And Larry's dash is definitely worth talking about. He spent his youth wild as a young hare. School wasn't a great fit for him, so he answered Uncle Sam's call and enlisted in the Navy, first becoming a diver and later a Seabee. After his service and a few trials and errors, Larry married the love of his life (and the only woman who could ever keep him in check), Alice Faye (Van Hoorebeke) Flatt on September 18, 1988. Her children – Wendy (JP) Kelly, Brett (Bridget) Nickens, and Keith (Jerri) Nickens – survive. They enjoyed a wonderful life together, living in Mulkeytown, IL, travelling, hunting and fishing, riding motorcycles, etc., until she passed on July 8, 2002. Larry retired from the Venegoni Anheuser-Busch distributorship in Christopher, IL after Alice's passing. He spent the remainder of his life doing as he pleased, helping his neighbors, getting into mischief, tinkering with things, and keeping me in line. While my biological father wasn't all that great at parenthood, Larry stepped up and filled those shoes. He taught me so much, but more than anything, he taught me that hard work – "man's work" – doesn't require a Y-chromosome, and that I could learn to do anything. My mom taught me how to drive a stick, but Larry taught me how to change my oil, rotate my tires, and lift vehicles to ridiculous heights. (He also taught me that one ought not forget to check one's fluids, lest one is willing to face a stern lecture.) He could do anything, from fixing a watch to finishing drywall or wiring a house, and he was always quick to lend a hand or offer a lesson. When Jimmy and I decided to open the shop, Larry offered his full support, and was instrumental not only in the initial opening, but in the years to come. He often referred to himself as a fixture around the place, but he was so much more than that. From helping "the pink Jeep Lady" try to balance her Jeep on the teeter-totter and climb over smashed cars, to teaching the girls in the front more than they ever wanted to know about 4x4s, Larry was a constant source of both knowledge and entertainment. Often mischievous and caught with that funny little smile he'd get when he was up to something, Larry was a sort of adopted grandfather to many. We've all heard the phrase, "the man, the myth, the legend," and I can't think of a better way of describing Larry. He truly was a legend. While you knew quite quickly if you were in the wrong about anything (including whether or not tomatoes are edible), Larry was a kind man and he loved deeply. Always humble, he had made his own arrangements and did not want the pomp and circumstance of services, nor our tears. Instead, he wanted a simple cremation. While we were unable to "take him out back and shoot him" as we were all often instructed, and while we're sure he'll haunt us regardless, we are unwilling to not respect his final wishes. That being said, he never told us we couldn't do anything in his memory down the road, so we will be hosting a Dash Bash on May 3, 2025, in his honor. Expect good food, a moment of silence, probably some gun shots or exploding Tannerite, off-roading, and a celebration Larry would be proud of.