Obituary of Wade Herrington

Wade Herrington was born the sixteenth of April, 1962, the third of four boys to Douglas and Vada Herrington. He passed away the sixteenth of September 2019 after an extended battle with cancer. He was a son, brother, husband and father, leaving behind his wife, Gwen and two daughters, Chelsea and Kaylee Herrington, his Mother, Vada, his Father, Douglas his brothers, Lenard, Guy and Kevin, his nephew, Shane and many other family and friends. He was so funny, full of life and noise. He was also an incredibly driven man, a builder and a dreamer. Big dreams, and a laundry list of improvements always on the go, he never went without a project. He loved working together. Through three houses and overcrowded backyards in each of them there were always undertakings to accomplish, things to improve. He would bring home old equipment and make it run again. Land, scrap, the old and broken, he saw opportunity and possibility. His ceaseless efforts kept old cars running, fences built and maintained, sheds moved and fixed up, interiors reworked, it seemed he could handle any task, fix anything that broke. He kept three homes up and running. Wade had his dream projects but he never lost sight of the day to day. His family was always on his mind. He loved nothing more than working together, than being together on some trip or event. Movies, long road trips, he shared his love of music on the long roads, of film at home on increasingly bigger and bigger screens. My earliest memories of my father are of the road trips. I remember riding along and listening to his cassettes; ACDC, Dire Straits, Savage Garden, he loved classic rock especially. It was his music that would become my music, his movies I'd re-watch. He was there for us in so many ways. Made the best games with the big equipment he ran. He would pull a sled behind his three-wheeler in a little circular track in the backyard when we were very young. This would end up being the simplest version of an evolution spanning years. Next he got a proper four wheeler that could go so much faster, pull stronger, so we got a bigger sled. And then two sleds, then a third littler one and chained them all up end to end. We'd call our friends and he'd pull us along the fields at great speeds, wipe-outs sent us tumbling into packed snow, the sleds pulled along via rope, then cord, then chain, finalizing in bars and hinge systems stringing it all together. It was amazing. Lastly he brought it to the water when he could afford a motorboat. Ill-fated hunting trips leaving us stranded on the side of the road promising not to tell mom, fishing far from home and locking the keys in the trunk. I remember Jasper, and chopping wood in back country. We were never very rich, but we got by. He had to go away to make it work pretty often throughout our life. Camps, the coal mine, Valleyview, and gas plants in the middle of the BC wilds. These places tainted somewhat now for what they represented. His absence. He worked hard, but work was never his passion, he did his best to make the money, to justify the sacrificed time. I thought when he got sick he would miss it. What He missed was his projects. Working together, they were the nature of his love. Father, Husband, Brother, Son. Inventor, mechanic, engineer, dreamer. We will miss him always. No service will be held at this time. Expressions of sympathy may be made by donation to the Dawson Creek & District Hospital Foundation, 11100 - 13 Street, Dawson Creek, British Columbia V1G 3W8.