Rudy William Rogers

Rudy William Rogers, known simply as Rudy to most, Daddy to his daughters, Papa to his grandkids, and most recently G-Pop to his great-grandchildren, was born on April 14, 1946, in Aurora, Missouri, to Merle and Elda Rogers. His only brother, Barry Rogers, of San Diego, California, remains with us today.
He is survived by his two daughters, Kimberly Rogers Bower and her husband Daniel F. Bower of Conifer, Colorado, and Regan Rogers Peeples and her husband Steven M. Peeples of Denison, Texas. He is also survived by his grandchildren Kylie C. Bower, Brianna D. Brants, Scott M. Peeples, and Brett C. Peeples, and great-grandchildren Wesley Brants, Eleanor Peeples, and Caroline Peeples.
Rudy lived in several West Texas towns during his early childhood, including Ozona, Wink, and Big Lake, before eventually settling in Jal, New Mexico, where he spent his later childhood and junior-high years. If he wasn't playing baseball, golf, or football, he was quite literally chasing rabbits through the mesquite brush with his older brother, Barry. Only golf stuck with him over the years, and he carried that love well into adulthood.
After leaving Jal, he moved to Midland, Texas, where he spent his high-school and college years. He graduated from Midland High School in 1964 and attended Texas Tech University. One of the family's favorite stories is that Barry sold his own car to pay for Rudy's admission, a small act of sacrifice that perfectly captured their bond.
Rudy was one of the most strong-willed and resilient people you could ever meet. He liked things done a certain way, his way, and he rarely apologized for it. He wasn't always easy, but he was always real. When he was kind, it was genuine. When he was tough, it came from conviction.
He had a sharp mind, a confident presence, and a certain charm when he turned it on. For the vast majority of his life, if you knew Rudy, you knew exactly where he stood. You could count on his steadiness, his direction, and his certainty about what was right and wrong. In these last few years, illness and dementia changed him. They took away pieces of that confidence and clarity, but they never erased who he had been. Those of us who knew the "old Rudy" will always remember that strength underneath it all.
Rudy spent nearly his entire career in telecommunications with AT&T. His focus was corporate security, and he took that responsibility seriously. Early in his career, he became affectionately known as "Deputy Dog" throughout the corridors of AT&T, a nickname that stuck for years.
His work took him all over, from Texas to Florida, and eventually across the world. One of the most meaningful chapters of his career was his time as Country Manager for Southeast Asia, where he and his wife, Jeanie, lived in Singapore for three years while he oversaw AT&T Security operations across 24 countries throughout the Far East. Singapore, along with Texas and Florida, always felt like home to him.
Rudy was a lifelong member of the NRA and a conservative Republican through and through.
Rudy had a passion for motorcycles that started early and never faded. What began with dirt bikes in his younger years eventually turned into a love for Harley-Davidsons. Few things brought him more joy than hitting the open road, hearing the rumble of the engine, feeling the freedom of the wind, and sharing the camaraderie that came with every ride.
In his prime, he was an avid golfer, fisherman, sailor, hunter, scuba diver, traveler, and a man who enjoyed good food, good company, and a good story. He also loved to play darts and pool with his buddies, competition that was friendly but never without a little edge. He loved the freedom of the open water and the fellowship of friends. Those were the spaces where you saw him at his best, confident, capable, and fully himself.
Later in life, Rudy's world became smaller but more meaningful. The titles that mattered most weren't professional anymore; they were personal. Dad. Papa. And most recently, G-Pop.
Family life wasn't always simple, but the love was always there, sometimes quiet, sometimes unspoken, but always real. He was fiercely proud of his daughters and deeply proud of every one of his grandchildren, each a reflection of his strength, humor, and stubborn streak in their own way. His grandchildren could make him laugh, calm his edges, and remind him of simple joys.
The last few years of his life were incredibly hard on his body, yet he showed remarkable resilience through it all. He battled two forms of cancer, diabetes, and stage-five kidney disease, considered end-stage renal failure. He suffered multiple TIAs, a heart attack in November 2024, and a subdural hematoma earlier this year that nearly took him from us, but somehow, he survived. Through every setback, he insisted he was fine. Even as his body failed him, he would grin and say, "I'm better than I've ever been." It was pure Rudy, stubborn, defiant, and determined to stay in control of his own story.
And now, for the first time, those words are truly true. He really is better than he's ever been, free from pain, whole again, and in the arms of his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is reunited with loved ones who went before him, and of course, with the dogs who were always waiting for him, tails wagging, ready to welcome him home.
WALDO FUNERAL HOME