Although I knew Jim for only three short years, he made a profound impact upon my life. Our paths happened to cross while searching the internet for other Jeep enthusiasts when I happened upon the website for Just Jeeps Of Omaha; a Jeep club that was Jim’s labor of love that he personally created and was extremely proud of. The next thing I new I was looking for some guy named Jim Davis in a truck stop parking lot at the crack of dawn and heading to Kansas for a weekend of wheeling. Within minutes of meeting Jim for the first time I knew there was something special about him. His boundless enthusiasm for Jeeping in particular and life in general was infectious and it was immediately evident that he loved interaction with people; treasured family and friends, and everyone with whom he came in contact seemed to know this about him instantly and instinctively.

         Jim always thought of others before himself. Whether it was by sacrificing his desire to tackle more difficult 4x4 trails in order to guide new wheelers over the easy trails which he had traveled a hundred times before; being the last to leave an event at the end of an exhausting day so that no one would be left behind or so that he could assist a fellow off-roader, whether he knew them or not; suffering chronic physical discomfort silently in order to put others at ease and not to dampen their fun; or, ultimately, by bravely enduring his final illness thinking always of the feelings of others before himself.

         Every time I saw Jim he had a smile on his face and a huge mug of coffee in his hand. Jim also had a fabulous sense of humor and a gift for gab and was not shy about sharing either; one only had to place a CB microphone in his hand to verify this fact. He saw humor where others failed to see anything noteworthy; he was a keen observer of human nature; and, foremost, he was an optimist…for Jim the glass was always half full not half empty.

        Of all the time I shared with Jim, I particularly treasure the memory of a trip that he and I took to Moab, Utah a little over a year ago. Although we had known each other for a relatively short time, over the course of this week we had discussions of a depth and breadth that some may go a lifetime without the benefit of sharing. It was then that I learned of the intensity and depth of his love for Michelle, Rachael and Jade and how fortunate he felt for having them in his life. It was on this trip that I first learned the full scope of his illness and how it had, and continued, to impact his life; and the extent of his passion for baking and his dreams for his future life’s work.

        Jim was a man of simple pleasures. Place him behind the wheel of his Jeep, with his family around him; a mug of coffee in his hand and Johnny Cash on the stereo and living couldn’t get any better for him. His eagerness to experience all that life had to offer, while, at the same time being gracious and ever mindful of the needs and desires of those around him, marked him in my mind as the most compassionate, caring, thoughtful and unselfish person I have known.

         At this time of grief I temper my sorrow and profound sense of loss with the incredible good fortune I feel for having had Jim be a part of my life. I know I speak for everyone here when I say “I will miss him dearly”.